Posted in Fiction, Short Stories, Writing

Sing to Me || A Short Story

Part 1:

Dakota Emmett had done it again. His singles had been hit the top of the charts for years, and this time, it was record-breaking. His crisp strong voice told stories for all who chose to listen. On the charts, he was a pop artist, but I’ve always thought he was an angel. If his voice wasn’t enough, his flowing locks reflected the stage lights out onto the crowd. Of course, you wouldn’t know of that bright, shining blond hair of his because he dyed it neon blue. When it would fade the color would look almost brown. He had it cut by one of the best, it never tickled his shoulders and never fell in his face. And his eyes, oh his eyes, were the color of the sky on a perfect spring day.
I stood in the crowd that day smiling from ear to ear. Because I lived in the same city as him I went to almost all of his concerts. We all packed into the concert hall talking wildly about the handsome devil. Today’s performance was special. If you pre-ordered the ticket you were placed in a random drawing to win a dinner date with Dakota. I smiled looking at all the girls around me. Yes, I had ordered the ticket ahead of time but I didn’t think I would even have a chance of hearing my name called.
Sinking into my seat I got ready to listen to his wonderful voice. I always thought he sang better on stage. Without the effects and splices of sound clips, his singing was pure. The lights dimmed and there was his beautiful face. Cameras circled him and huge screens showed me all the little details of his face. The girls screamed and I bounced up and down in my chair. He sang his hit songs first. As the night went on he started getting to older songs. There were times when I was the only one mouthing words and other times where the hall erupted into off-key singing.
Five minutes were left in the allotted time. Everyone around me shifted. The last note of Dakota’s sound played out and then his smile was back.
“Hellooo everyone,” He showed his perfect teeth off to the crowd, “I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming to see me tonight. Now which one of you lovely ladies gets to wants to have dinner with me tomorrow night?” The crowd whooped and hollered, “I thought so.” He gave a sideways grin, “Now let’s see who the winner is.”
The crowd went wild, shouting into the sky. He reached into a little bucket and pulled out a slip.
“And the winner is, Chance Haytoooonn.” He threw his head back.
I froze in place. That was my name. I had won. The audience cheered. A man with a clipboard walked up to my row.
“Please come with me,” he said addressing me.
I stumbled up and ran after him. We walked down the stairs as the girls watched me. They were all probably planning to kill me. I walked up the stairs onto the stage and paused. There was still a chance I could run away. I didn’t want to be on stage in front of the all the people I beat. Someone nudged me from behind and the momentum sent me running out onto the stage. Seeing Dakota standing that close to me, I stopped in place. I was probably 10 feet away.
He held his right hand out and smiled. “No need to be so shy, come stand over here with me.”
I tumbled over to stand by him and looked up at his beautiful, wonderful face. My face flushed red. He rested his hand on my shoulder.
“Congratulations, Chance, I have to say, I wasn’t expecting any guy to enter, but I guess there was a- CHANCE.”
I tried to laugh but ended up looking down at the stage, my face was most likely red.
“So, do you have anything you want to say?”
I shook my head and stared at my shoes.
He patted my back lightly. “Well then, I’ll see you backstage.”
That boy’s voice, it made my heart pound. After a few minutes, he came off of the stage to where I was standing.
“I’m so sorry!” I yelled as soon as he got near me, “I should have said something, and I’m a guy so that probably screwed you up-”
Dakota rested his hand on my shoulder, his blue orbs looked into my eyes, “Don’t worry about it, I know that must have been hard for you. So for dinner are you free on Saturday around 6?”
“You don’t need to eat with me, I totally get it.” I stumbled backward.
He shook his head. “That’s nonsense, you won fair and square.”
“Saturday then…”
“I’ll send someone to pick you up.” Dakota ruffled my hair gently, “I like the red, by the way.”
Then he disappeared. A piece of my dyed red hair fell in front of my eyes. I watched him talk to some of the producers as he left. Running off to the parking lot, I covered my face, hoping no one would recognize me. I drove home with my foot on the gas the whole time. My heart raced. When I got home I snuck in through the front door. My father was watching TV in the living room, my mom was washing dishes in the kitchen. As to not attract attention to myself, I took quiet steps.
I passed my sister’s room and my brother’s room and crept into mine. My room was dark, almost all the bulbs were burnt out. There were stacks of paper everywhere. Each one of them as a different song that would never be sung. I sat down on my bed and pressed my face into my hands. All of my clothes were scattered on my bed. I had literally nothing to wear if I went to dinner with him.

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Posted in Fiction, Short Stories, Writing

Lie to Me

This is the start of a much longer work of fiction!

Everyone loves a good lie. White lies, exaggerations, promises, stories and, best of all, bold-faced lies. You knew when you picked up this book that it was a tall tale, a work of fiction. I always liked to think that the news told the truth but as we have found, that too is unreliable. But at Li’s request, I was reading the front page.
The storm was flicking the page back and forth as we walked side by side through the gray rain. Water was streaking down my glasses making it hard to read but the bold-faced title certainly had caught my attention. Urban Legend Strikes Again! Brakes squeaked loudly in the rain, their headlights flashing over my face. Everyone had heard of Whicker City’s very own urban legend.
A kid, no older than 7 was a scientific experiment held in the old asylum building at the top of the hill. The goal was to make Telblow Chinst immortal but the tests were painful and the scientists viscous. They committed all sorts of unnecessary evils, little food, no bed, harsh punishments for struggling, not giving him pain meds or waiting for his wounds to heal. One in specific had been taking advantage of the kid and killed Telblow to keep his secret safe. This much is true, the charred asylum building still stood on the horizon. The government had shut down the whole organization and released the medical documents detailing the horrors.
The only thing is, Telblow did become immortal. His ghost, still a child as he had been, gutted the scientist and torched the whole staff, causing the same pain to them which he had been caused. Or at least that’s the only explanation as to how the building caught fire. They say his soul still eagerly seeks out those who hurt others for sport. He kidnaps them, taking the evil to the lab where he touches them. The person is only released as a warning, covered in scars from the experiments.
The paper was soggy in my hands. I jumped at the sudden rumble of thunder. Li was staring right at me. His silver hair was going nuts in the wind and his gray eyes looked like the storm itself. He was wearing all black again, with his leather over a black tee with a cowl. He had on his long fingerless gloves with the gold decals like the ones on his jacket. The intensity in his eyes made me look away and blush. It was no exaggeration to say he was handsome as hell.
“What do you think?” He said as lightning flashed not that far away.
I looked back to the article. “It’s all bull. People just get drunk, wander up there and get cut up on the barbed wire.”
Then his hand came over the article. He peeled back the top page where a huge picture of a kid with a sadistic smile was staring right at me. Big round glasses, white hair in a mohawk, a scar across his face, wearing the rags that could have once been a hospital gown, and a scalpel held up to the cheek of Frendl the school bully. That was Telblow alright.
I dropped the paper without meaning to. My face got cold as I stood firmly in place above the puddle it had landed in. Li stopped too, I could see his black sneakers just ahead of me. He came back beside me and bent down to pick up the paper. His gloves were wet now but he turned the paper over in his hands. Then he held it out to me. As I took it, he kept walking. We did need to get to class. I took a deep breath and kept walking.
My socks were soggy and my skin was so cold it burned. This truly was a scorching winter. The picture was of the museum, an old, concrete building in the center of town. ‘Thieves gold’ gemstone on display. Will it be stolen again? This arbitrary piece of rock was highly coveted. It had a history of being stolen from every museum, collection, and household it had ever been a part of. The people in the article called it cursed because it really wasn’t all that valuable but was always the only thing to be stolen. The stone itself resurfaced on the black market every 10-20 years.
“Why are you showing me this?” I yelled to Li even though he was not that far in front of me.
“I got a job.” He said and his jaded eyes looked over at me. “Night Guard.”
Dread instantly filled my core. “Are you nuts? You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know you don’t, but I do.”
I marched up beside him but his stoic face revealed nothing. Sighing, I handed him back the paper. He took it and tucked it under his jacket. That was the second time I had thought to tell him I had a crush on him in that morning alone.
I adored his silver hair, I knew it was dyed but it was still perfect for him. His roots were a kind of black reserved for black holes. He really had no choice but to have me dye it every few weeks, though. In our community, everyone was born with blond hair that grew in darker as they lost their childhood innocence. A lot of people at our school dyed their hair so their parents wouldn’t know about all the dirty stuff they had been getting into. Some people took pride in how dark their hair was, the bad boys especially, but for Li, it was just a reminder of lost youth.
I had platinum blonde so bright white that it invited every other guy to pick on me. By this age almost all the boys had darker hair. I had virgin blond hair and everyone teased me about it but I still refused to dye it. From the high school up ahead I could already hear the teasing, my hair a spotlight in the storm.
“Dye your damn hair already,” Li said barely a whisper over the wind. “Or I’ll dye it while you’re snoring.”
“I’ve managed to carry my childlike sense of wonder into high school and I’m not going to hide it.”
“It’s embarrassing, haven’t you ever thought one dirty thought?”
Hundreds, whenever he walked out of the shower in a towel or fell asleep on the couch beside me.
“Well, it’s not white.”
“Whiter than the snow.”
I kicked the gray snow with my boot. It looked like ash heaped up all over the city. Snow sat on the limbs of leafless trees making them look scorched in a fire that never came through.
“This isn’t normal. Besides, your skin is whiter than sunscreen.”
His eyes were smiling even though his lips hadn’t moved. “I take pride in my reclusiveness.”
We were in the snow-covered grass now and it took everything I had not to look at the gang of boys who were shouting at me. Li could clearly see this on my face. He turned to glare at the guys and at once, they all shut up. I had no idea why everyone at the school was so terrified of him. Rumor has it Li beat the crap out of the football team when I was sick at the beginning of the year. But rumors too are lies for the most part. Li escorted me to history and sat down in the seat beside me even though he didn’t have a first-period class.
“Didn’t you stay up late last night?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“You should have slept in, you don’t have to walk me to school.”
He shrugged and pulled out the paper. “I like your cooking so I have to get up.”
“You made breakfast.”
He blinked and then looked up at me. “Oh. Well, you were going to be late, I had to do something.”
The bell rung and the teacher started chatting away. I smiled at him. My heart always seemed to pound a little faster when I was with him. When I was sick earlier in the term he had to take me to the hospital because I was so weak. I remember how he was so worried that he had to be very close to me at all times. When they were checking my heart rate, he had put his hand on mine and the doctor was worried about how fast my heart was beating. I smiled to myself now and looked to him.
He was bent over a sketchbook drawing away. I had never once seen what he was drawing, not because he was shy but because he was stubborn. He reached over and took a book out of my bag and set it on my desk without looking up. I noticed that all the other kids had their textbooks open. Hurriedly, I flipped through the pages and found the one the girl next to me was reading.
One of the pictures was of a huge black rock that had been carved in by the natives. Below it was the transcription. I’m sure it wasn’t what the rest of the class was reading but the concept of another lie fascinated me.
Now is the time of dying. Our slaughter has come but do not lose heart. From the ashes of our world will rise another. And from white stone, a hero will be born. He shall avenge us. He shall revive our lost art. He shall take back what is rightfully ours.
The teachers cleared his throat and I looked up. “So as you can see, today we are talking about the attempted genocide of our ancestors. Can anyone interpret what you just read?”
A young lady at the front of the class raised her hand and he called on her. “Upon destroying the ‘Earth’ its inhabitant’s flue on a spaceship and landed here. The King wanted complete control over the land and was threatened by our magic. He tried to have all us natives killed but some of us escaped to this island. And he only cares about his gigantic city and hasn’t come looking for us.”
“Very good, thank you.”

 

If you want me to write more, please leave a like and/or comment! I have a whole novel-length work planned!

Posted in Anime Review, Fiction, Writing

Story Review: Love Stage!

img_8018.jpgHi there! Today I wanted to talk about plot and story structure in one of my all time favorite anime, Love Stage! I just recently finished rewatching it and was remarking about what the writers did.The first thing

The first thing to come to mind was the wonderful plot device of having both characters start out straight. This is the same thing that happened with me and Marlow which is the same over arching plot at in Love Stage. They weaved this in really nicely with the many sub plots, keeping the main story from smothering the later developments.

The sub plots really reinforced the main line of the story and made it seem more like developments on the main story rather than unrelated events. The main one that comes to mind is Izumi’s debut which is added in very early and carries through to the end of the anime. The main plot really piggy backed on it (in a good way) tieing in major plot points.

The characters were very well developed! Even though there is little screen time for some of them we get the gist of their character and how they are important to Izumi. For instance, his parents are in just a few crucial clips to show us how Izumi was raised. This went all the way down to the fictional character Izumi was obsessed with so she may help him through his emotional barriers.

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img_8017.jpg

I completely disagree with you.

The main problem I have with the anime is the sheer amount of rape or near rape that Izumi is exposed to. This paint’s all gay relationships as unhealthy and does not provide any hope for a gay guy looking for support.

In fact, the whole anime doesn’t even deal with coming out of the closet. The characters opt to hide their relationship (if you can call it that) by announcing Izumi’s debut. And the two other confirmed characters clearly have not told the rest of the world, not even their families.

Though the animation is well done and it does promote accepting yourself the Anime falls flat in my opinion. I think Izumi’s debut would have been fine if we actually saw him struggle on set. And really they should have come out of the closet.

I think the other manga club kids a distraction and feel they are not needed in the last episode and only are there just to show the writers hadn’t forgotten about them. It would have been much more meaningful if the writers had just focused on the one key character instead of dividing up the attention.

***

Agree to disagree

Posted in Fiction, Publishing, Writing

How To Develop Infinite Novel Plots (With Your Own Personal Theme)

I’m always surprised by how many people have problems coming up with ideas for their books. I’ve never been the type to not have six or seven projects going at once. But there is one thing that I think is unaccounted for when people browse story starting sentences or images. This is something that I have always used and could not develop ideas without.

The Base Story

Now, this is the single most important, root for building every novel you could ever think of.  I always have my niche story start. Think of it as the first building block, the foundation to build upon. This could be as simple as ‘Man Vs. Nature’ or as complex as ‘Man struggling in the business world’ but it is the one common thread that all of your novels will have in common.

It MUST be Something that Interests YOU Deeply

For me, it’s gay romance where one of the main characters does not want to admit he’s gay. I find the dynamic extremely interesting with a thousand different plots. When you try to think of your base story make sure:

It can be set all different places across space and/or time.

You can interchange character types easily.

It is deeply interesting to YOU (not your mom, boyfriend or publisher).

It is flexible enough to fit many different subplots, character developments, and won’t have the same overall outline.

It can be used as a subplot if your interest turns to something else.

So for my example:

Novel 1: Boy is running for a position of power and is blackmailed into a marriage with another guy, main characters does not want to admit he’s gay but ends up falling in love. Novel 2: Boy has no memory of the past as he has died and while traveling through the afterlife the main characters

Novel 2: Boy has no memory of the past as he has died and while traveling through the afterlife the main characters does not want to admit he’s gay but ends up falling in love with his guide.Novel 3:

Novel 3: One of the most popular singers in America does not want to admit he’s gay because he’ll fall out of popular light, but he’s head over heals in love with someone.

I have 20+ ideas that center around this one idea. Whenever I’m stuck, I just start with this concept and brainstorm off of it. It’s a great starting place to get my mojo going.

It has Other Benefits Too!

If being able to develop plots extremely quickly isn’t enough, consider the fallowing. Your books will all be in the same category, making readers find your other work easier. Your publisher will know what to expect for you and can more easily pitch your book. Your current readers will like more that just your fist book and will look forward to others.

I hope this helps you with your plot development basics! Have a great day!

Posted in Writing

A Note on How to Write Gay Fiction

I have found that people are most interested in the things they know the least about. One of my most popular posts is ‘How to write characters with dyslexia’ in which I try to help people better understand what dyslexia effects in my life. It was not until just a moment ago that I realized I had another type of character that people were still fascinated by… Gay ones. So here we go, this is my number one and most important tip.

It is exactly the same as writing straight fiction.

When you are writing the actual romance, falling in love is the same for all types of people.

What is different is how the world reacts.

Once upon a time, I wrote a gay romance and the person who read it misread all the pronouns to make the main character a girl. It works for me, they liked the novel they just weren’t open enough to LGBT ideas for me to correct them.

So that is my footnote on how I suggest you write gay fiction- the same way as everything else.