The Realms of a Fantastical Mind

Post by E.M. LaBonte . Thoughts?  Comments?  Join in the fun. Come up with some wild ideas for nightmares and if I chose them, you could win a prize! A painting from A Brush of Inspiration, a charm from Charmed Creations or a $10 Amazon gift card. 

We have come to 2013.  Most of us have not seen the end of the world.  Life goes on.  There was no Zombie apocalypse, no disaster of some strange planet X coming to wreak havoc on the land. No, our doom will be as it always was. Of our own making. So as we enter the new year most of us are hoping to change something about ourselves or what not.  How about we just stick to what we already have.  Why change?  Why try to make things 'better' for yourself when it may not make you happy. Having more money wont make things easier, it will just create more bills. Having lost weight wont make you healthier unless you drastically change everything you do and eat.  So let's face it.  We all want to be happy and we all have some wacky idea of what will get us there. Just don't forget what you already have.  What makes you happy?  Have you paid attention to those things around you that make life worth living.  Stop and just look a...

Welcome, Sue Bolich, this week’s Blog Ring of Power guest. Sue is a member of  Broad Universe,  where she recently shared the news that she is battling cancer, and the medical bills are piling up.  Please help Sue and show your support by purchasing her novels as every little bit of financial help is desperately needed. Don’t miss the rest of her interview at: Part 1: Monday, Dec. 3, About You–  Sandra Part 2: Tuesday, Dec. 4, The Writing Life– Dean Part 3: Wednesday, Dec. 5,The Creative Process– Terri Part 4: Thursday, Dec. 6, About Her Currant Work - T.W. Part 5: Friday, Dec. 7, Words of Wisdom–  Emily  Words of Wisdom BRoP:  Tell us about your route to success –how did you land your agent/publisher? Sue:  I met my publisher at a science fiction convention. Get out of the house! Meet people. Learn the ropes. Demonstrate that you’re a professional and can get the job done, and that you have something great to offer....

My feet hit the soft littered floor of the forest.  All around me were the sounds of birds. At least, I thought they were birds.  The forest opened up to a path, dark with heavy foliage on one side.  The light of the sun broke in streams on the other.   Beautiful to behold.  I took another light step. "Magical or Mundane?"  The words echoed in my head.  I looked around. Did I imagine that? "Mundane or Magical?" I flinched, the voice deepened.  What was it asking me? If I was magical or mundane? I stumbled trying to think.  Should I answer it? "Um... mundane?" The trees hissed while a flock of birds scattered above.   A roar, louder and deeper than any voice in my head, made my knees shake.  Crashing through the thick woods a bear came into view.  It stopped when it spotted me.  Raising up on it's hind legs it roared again.  Holding my ears I took a step back.  The beast was taller than I had ever im...

I stepped up to the bridge. The blue flowers around it spread across the grassy land.  Beyond there was dark forest.  Did I dare to walk the bridge to the unknown?  It seemed welcoming enough. Noises from beyond made my heart flutter.  Footsteps shifted on leaves and sticks.  Twittering noises from the forest floor and around the canopy, called to me.  There could be anything between the human civilized world on this side of the bridge and what lived on the other side. Everyone who had ever crossed the bridge were never heard from again.  Did they find a new world that they now live in joyous contentment, or were they now lost souls wondering the beyond? I couldn't stand there much longer. I couldn't walk away either.  It was time to decide.  Easing one foot on the bridge, I settled my hand on the old course wood.  I slowly moved across. Gripping the railing with each step, my feet led me over.  The smell of flowers flowed ...

I think the first thing that comes to mind on this is... "All Hale George R.R. Martin!" Okay, maybe not everyone feels that way.  I've only read his first book and was wowed by it.  There is so much depth, so much to every banner, every household.  So much that I didn't think of... back to the drawing board. When writing fiction there are some basic backgrounds that need to be established. The Main Character.  Where did they come from?  How did they get to be the way they are at the beginning of the book?  What effects them the most positively and negatively? The Supporting Characters.  Again, where did they come from? How did they get to be the way they are at the beginning of the book? What effects them the most positively and negatively? The Land around them.  Yup even the land needs a history.  When writing Urban stories things are easier because the history was already made.  We know about what has happened in Bo...

I'm up on Dragons and Aliens and Wraiths Oh My , talking about the need for thick skin when getting a critique of my work. It all deals with the mindset.  Keep an open mind and remember that your critique partner is trying to help you get better. What do you do to don your armor?  Do you react badly to critiques? How do you get past harsh review?  I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Everyone drives inspiration from somewhere.  Whether for writing, painting, architecture, or any other creative outlet. There is always an idea hovering around to be plucked and used in some other form. So here is my idea for my writing friends.  Take what inspiration you usually feed your muse with, and put it away.  Now look for something different.  An old building crumbling from years of neglect, it has a story waiting to be told.  How about a old history lesson.  You heard about all the wars of the world, every living creature had a story through it.  Look for something different then your normal go-to. Here's a link for 31 ways to find Inspiration . and a link to some more links cause sometimes surfing the web is the way to go. Life is a very diverse thing, and so too are we. He told me that he wanted to hold the world in his hands. I thought that was silly when whoever controls the sun controls not just this wo...

We need our computer, some paper and pens, or some nifty software so that we can organize the craziness of our books. With all these things, our greatest tools may be overlooked. What are they you ask... go ahead ask. I'll tell you what they are (IMHO) Critique partners, Beta readers, and Editors. Yes, your greatest tools as a writer are those people who take time out of their lives to hack and slash your baby into little red filled pages of suffering.  They are the reason we writers need to have thicker skin than a killer whale. They are also the reason why the successful author's books get read, and read and read over again. It's common knowledge that as a writer we get so involved with our babies, so much care taken to make every word choice perfect, that we don't see the blaring black holes in our plot, or the grossly overused metaphor that needs to go. We need those extra set of eyes to point out the flaws. So what is the difference between ...

 Welcome T.W. Fendley! T.W. has been hosting the Blog Ring of Power with me for several months. In that time we've become good friends over the web.  I was excited when she told me about what she was planning. So, with the joined effort of many others we have come together to bring all of you her Book Party!  T.W. Fendley writes historical fantasy and science fiction with a Mesoamerican twist for adults and young adults. Her debut historical fantasy novel, ZERO TIME, was voted Best Science Fiction/Fantasy Novel in the 2011 P&E Readers Poll. Her short stories took second place in the 2011 Writers' Digest Horror Competition and won the 9th NASFiC 2007 contest. Teresa belongs to the St. Louis Writer's Guild, the Missouri Writers' Guild, SCBWI and Broad Universe. BOOK BLURB: As Zero Time nears, only Keihla Benton can save two worlds from the powers of Darkness. But first she must unlock the secrets of Machu Picchu and her own past. When Philadelphia science writ...

The waves crashed against her feet, as Melandra coughed wet sand out of her mouth.  Dazed, she lifted her head to look around.  She was alive, but alone.  Debris from the ship lay all around her, along with the crates from the cargo hold.  However, there were no signs of any other survivors. She was shocked to find that all of her items, though waterlogged, stayed with her, reminding her of her determination to hold on to her only protection.  She was dizzy and weak from floating on bits of wood all night.  Hurt but still alive the wind reminded her that she may not remain so if she doesn't get warm, and soon.  The temperature was only slightly warming with dawns light breaking over the pine trees, past the beach. She searched around but all there was to offer was wet wood. Causing it to be much more difficult to light a fire than it usually was.  She owed it to being so dizzy and disoriented.  Looking around she spotted black smo...

Time flies by on wings unseen. Words flow to page as if they were already written but there is not enough time to write to dream. When you wake will you still see what was written behind your eyes? Will you see the beauty of imagination's first kiss last kiss Walk in the shadows of light walk on the clouds of thought. it is your dream you desire your choice to remember and write the story share with the world the depths in which imagination can flow It's your choice. Sorry if you weren't expecting poetry.  It comes and goes, I haven't shared mine in almost 10years.  I apologize if it seems a bit off.  I'm rusty at it, but the poetry has been hovering over my shoulder for the past few days and ran through me when I started to write.  Kind-of how my characters are at times in the story I'm writing.   The question I wanted to ask, is how many of us create our stories out of a dream? I could say that mine was create...

The dust drifted up from the hole in the ground. Collapsing rock still fell, and as the dust swirled around them, they realized someone was missing.  Mavra had been standing on the earth that had swallowed him into its now gaping mouth.  The companions looked into the darkness and called for him, but no answer was returned. The companions each looked at each other and knew what needed to be done.  Serral had the ability to spider climb naturally and Nimue was given the cloak with similar abilities not too long ago.  Together they made the treacherous decent into the darkness.  Searching around was almost futile as the dust that was kicked up made the low light vision that they both had, useless.  However, both of their hearing was exceptional and with little effort they were able to make out the sounds of dragging from an opening not too far from where they had landed. "It would be unwise to co...

The earth elemental rose up from the platform, towering over the companions.  Mavra had dashed to the opening as an opponent hovered in the archway.  Serral had broken off from his blood-blade to assit the dark elf, only to find Ladarious rushing past to break Mavra's stride with a tackle to the floor.  Now the blood-blade, Nimue` stood alone against the earth itself.  She swung her enchanted long sword and rapier with a dance of blades, chipping off chunks of the element.  She did not know whether her efforts would come to fruition but she needed to try. The foe in the door way dissapeared before Serral could attack it with the swarm of bats he had conjured.  He took a step to assist his fellow adventurers, but Mavra had all well in hand as he pushed up on the lion humanoid and with little effort Ladarious flew across the room. With the shadow-like creature gone, the companions focused on the shambli...

A short story inspired by old times at the YMCA camp and the loss of all those trees. The wind whistled with the scent of her blossoms.  The old oak always admired the colors and scents of the lovely apple tree growing up the hill off the dirt road.   He stood and observed from a distance, for more human generations than he cared to count.   Watching as the people and animals passed his way.  There was a scar of a heart with initials carved on his trunk. The scar came with the memories of childhood sweet hearts who spent their youth climbing his bows. Now the couple was wizened with age and came to him every few years to celebrate their times as children together. The younger generations spent their time under the apple tree.  She would shower them with petals in the mid spring mornings or shelter them in the hot summer sun.  The old oak was still taller than her and held more limbs to climb and linger under, but she was in an ideal place fo...

I've been trying to get my crap together. Organize what I'm doing when and trying to get things running smoothly. And what happens but I find myself snuggled up to my kobo reading series after series of my favorite authors. Nothing I wanted to get done, gets done and my poor book is again neglected like the house plant that hasn't been watered for weeks. It sits with it's pages drooping over the edge of the table, practically begging to get picked up and revised fully into the 5th draft. 'Please' it whispers in the dark of night as I lay sleeping, 'please remember I'm here.' so after 2 weeks of my horrible behavior of reading, in which I've been poking and prodding at other writers work, only because I've done so much to my own book that I can't help but see what the holes are, I opened my critiquing folder and had a crack at a 1st chap of a MS that I should have opened the day I got it. I'm not even saying that out of duty, oh ...