fiction

What will I do if I find myself with a heart?" "Lose it constantly, I imagine.

Collecting the Wings Of Pain ~ The Sordid Stings Of Love Is all I Gain- Munish Maya

...I retreat into my fictional world where everything makes sense - but even there I can't even control what people do...

Language is music. Written words are musical notation. The music of a piece of fiction establishes the way in which it is to be read, and, in the largest sense, what it means. It is essential to remember that characters have a music as well, a pitch and tempo, just as real people do. To make them believable, you must always be aware of what they would or would not say, where stresses would or would not fall.

Try to be someone upon whom nothing is lost!

Mankind has a mandate to care for the earth and all that is within it, especially the animals, and an animal should never be placed in a position where he needs to be concerned about such things. But this is not that time.

Living in that castle was like being condemned to Hell before I__ even had the opportunity to sin.

If a lioness spends her hours pacing back and forth in a cage of gold with the finest meats at her disposal, does that make her any less of a prisoner? If that same feline__ fangs are filed down to blunt, un-tearing teeth and her roar is silenced, can she still be called a lioness?

Of course, the fact that Dostoevsky can tell a juicy story isn__ enough to make him great. If it were, Judith Krantz and John Grisham would be great fiction writers, and by any but the most commercial standards they__e not even very good.

Advice from a Romance Writer: Guys, make your woman feel pretty even on an 'off' day. Trust me, good things will come of it.

It is you I foreknew and have predestined for such a time as this. Just as My heart has so eagerly chosen you, William Ore, you must also choose me.

My cat mocks me frequently. It's the universe's way of keeping me from getting too big of an ego.

Woe is the mind of the common man, so easily controlled by the prospect of an ambition never to be truly attained. This is what tyrants live on and by what commoners are blissfully burdened and subdued.

And there it is! Bravo! I knew it was only a matter of time before Byron realized he had an audience. That man is simply incapable of keeping his shirt on when there are spectators. One Christmas Eve, he stripped his shirt off right in the middle of the choir's rendition of Oh Child of Bethlehem. Coincidentally, the next song was Come Let Us Adore Him and the imbecile actually launched into some interpretive dance.

Being a single parent on a part-time basis is tricky to navigate. That is what a racing widow has to do.

Pastor McFucking Bride this . . . Pastor McFucking Bride that. Fuck him!

Jack gave her a fierce look. __our mother gave up the best thing she had in her life. I know you miss her, I know you__e confused and have all sorts of questions for her. But you__e better than her, Lola, you__e better than all of this. __he wronged you, not the other way around. You didn__ do anything wrong. You didn__ deserve what happened to you. She__ the one that needs to feel bad, not you. __ometimes there are no answers. You have to accept that. Maybe you__l never know what you think you need to know, but do you really need to know all the details, really? You know she wasn__ there when you needed her, she still isn__ here when you need her, but look around, Lola._ Jack opened his arms wide. __ou got me. You got your aunt. Jared. Sebastian. Rachel. Even Isabelle. __ou need to realize that and move on, as best you can. I had to realize that myself. When you let go of the pain and hurt and unanswered questions, Lola, then you__l be okay. You__e safe now._ Jack pressed a kiss to her forehead. __ou__e safe now. Remember that. Believe that.

Sometimes strange fiction, becomes grim reality.