Showing posts with label creatures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creatures. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 24, 2021

A Writer's Life is Making the Most Out of the Universe

I am having so much fun!

I knew world building for a novel was great, but universe building is even better. You may have noticed the additions to the Legacy Universe. I love mythology, so I am creating my own for this extended universe of different stories, characters, and supernatural elements. 

It is fun. 

I am also outlining some counterintelligence novels. Often in a universe we see only the effects of the antagonist, I want to get to know them. Should we feel empathy for the bad guys? Or, pity? 

My characters have already been showing me and talking to me in a creative sense, not a "need medication" sense. I believe there are some good scenes in the works. I am brainstorming plot lines and other scenarios as I go along.

Likewise, I have to refocus my efforts. I have been doing chores to get ready for winter. Energy efficient curtains for the back door, shopping for the house, and just regular stuff that needs to be done. That means I have to budget time for writing. I do need to sit down and make some time to write more.

And, do you like the book cover designs? Some will be revised and polished down the line, but you get the idea. 

I love being artfully creative. You should see my Tshirts

Anyway, I am planning out my strategy. Now, if I could get help with my chores! 

A writer's life. I wouldn't change it for the world. 

Have a great and wonderful day.

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Blood Novel Review and Ruth Miranda Interview

If you are into unique writing styles, avant garde with an emphasis on the psychology of individual characters, then Ruth Miranda may be the writer for you.

A fresh perspective on the paranormal genre is hard to discover these days but Blood by Ruth Miranda is up there with the likes of Jim Butcher.

When you think of Ruth Miranda; think the style and composition of George Eliot.

Sometimes the refreshing is found in the unexpected. 

How did you get into writing?

MIRANDA: I started writing short stories as soon as I learned to string sentences together, so I've pretty much written since I was seven, eight years old. I write out of necessity to put down the stories in my head, am constantly making up stories there.

Were you always the creative sort?

MIRANDA: I've always been into stringing words together, but was hopeless at any other form of creative work, can't sing, can't draw, can't play any musical instruments. I did dance ballet for a while and wasn't too bad.

Why the topic of pretenaturals? Did you make up the term?

MIRANDA: I've always liked the idea of creatures living amongst us that are not like us, humans. That they differ from us in their genetics, their capabilities, but are as prone as we are to all that makes us who and what we are as individuals and persons. I don't think I invented the term, though, I think I've seen it around for a while.

Since the paranormal realm and its creatures are metaphors for the human condition, what does your writing say about being human?

MIRANDA: I don't use paranormal and creatures as metaphors, I use them as I may use a character of chinese descent, or african, or suomi. It's just another race, in my books. Of course, they do have powers humans don't, but I've never thought of using vampires for metaphors, for example.

BLOOD by Ruth Miranda is an intriguing coming of age story for Caius part Fey and all immortal. He struggles with events in his life that have left him mourning the loss of his fiancé and confused about his natural paranormal abilities. On the search to discover his past, Caius enters a world unlike his own: the world of vampires, witches, and Fey.

Ms. Miranda brings a new kind of reality into creation. In the same vein as Jim Butcher, Blood opens the reader into her fertile imagination. Dialogue moves the plot and characters along a path filled with suspense and intrigue. What will happen if Caius discovers his true identity? Will he confront his father? Save his brother, Marcus?

Blood is not your typical novel. Descriptive words sketch out characters and setting like a work of art. Enjoy this masterful piece of paranormal fantasy and paint your way through the chapters by the number.

For more information and publications by this writer, please visit her Amazon author's page: Ruth Miranda

If you would like to be featured on Undawnted with an author interview and/or review, please see our Bookings page

Thursday, April 6, 2017

The Rain Update

Updated cover art and a page all by itself. The Rain should have a great time attracting poetry fans. 

The Rain: Monsoon in the Desert is a long tale in lyric form about the monsoon, storms, desert creatures, and a lone human looking out for Mother Earth's little lives. 

This poem is epic. 

Read more about The Rain here

Have a great and wonderful day!

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

400 Word Challenge

Every once and awhile, I see a writing challenge online and I must take it. This one helped me with a science fiction book I have been writing off and on for what feels like centuries. So I used this opportunity to expand my universe, once again.
“Grrraahwahahaaaa!” The planet screamed from within. The soul of the planet began to emerge from its cloistered hibernation. 
Panicked residents began to flee as giant chasms in the crust opened to reveal the stark truth: this was not a planet; it was a cocoon. A billion years this creature had matured in its chrysalis and now it was about to be reborn. 
Earthquakes toppled buildings. Whole structures split in two. Massive chunks of the concrete and steel gods plummeted to the ground. 
People scattered screaming, yelling, and cowering in fear. The peaceful colony was besieged by terror. Millions were being killed in the upheaval and sheer chaos. 
As the rips in the planet’s configuration widened, a blue glow emanated. Brighter and brighter the illumination blinded people as the creature made its way out. The cool rays vibrated at a frequency too low to hear but easily felt. People froze as their muscles turned to ice. 
Soon the planet would be no more and the chill of the beings’ natural deep space temperature would destroy all the life it came in contact with. Some people found their way into ships and zoomed off into the farthest reaches of the solar system and watched. The dusty red planet succumbed to the overpowering destruction of a live birth. 
I was one of those people. Nine years old at the time, but I saw it. I witnessed how life could change in an instant. Not from malice or hate, but by the law of the universe: change and live or die in your shell. 
Ten billion people lost their lives that day. The creature was an indescribable ball of blue light with different colored orbs revolving around its own circumference like an atmosphere. The inner core of the planet spilled out and now it used as a mining colony for all the precious metals and minerals. 
That is the pendant I wear. A rare pink mineral was given to me as a lasting reminder of how I lost my family and home world in a matter of hours. I really do not need the jewel; I remember every moment in perfect detail. 
The creature disappeared after that day. No one had ever seen another glimpse of the being. Well, not until today. 
I found it. After twenty years of searching the deep trenches of space, I am staring straight at my living nightmare…
 How would you write about the end of the world? 

Have a great and wonderful day!

Monday, April 21, 2014

An Empty Nest

In this lifetime, there was no children for me and with this illness, there will not be any.

So when I take care of the creatures around me and do a good job, they leave. That was true for today. The baby hummingbirds did not return to their nest this evening.

Sad for me. Wonderful for them.

I hope in the coming days or years, they stop by and let me know how they are doing. Such sweet sorrow. Maybe next year, one will nest again where I can watch over them.

Or, maybe I should say: watch over me.

For now there is an empty nest in my gazebo planter, but never empty in my heart. 

Hummingbird Graduation Day

It's Graduation Day at the my house.

Baby hummingbirds are taking their first flights this morning... awww! 

I did take some pictures this weekend of the babies because they were getting too big for their nest. I knew their time to investigate the wider world was not far away. Today was that day.

So I went out and all the babies were gone from their nest. As I stood around the gazebo, the last of the babies buzzed up to me. She wanted to show me she got her wings. I put my hand up for her to land and she decided to go another direction... which she smacked into my six foot fence wall. 

She bounced a few more times until she hit the ground. Irene, my outdoor cat, pounced on that stroke of good luck and proceeded to get the baby in her mouth... but Irene listens to me. I kept repeating NO! until my cat released the baby bird. It must have been quite the mental struggle for Irene to let go of such a tasty treat, but she did.

Even Ivanka, my indoor calico who gets a free pass to the outdoors a few times a week, wanted to capture the baby hummingbird. It was such a scene of me yelling and running around to save that baby bird from two feisty felines. In the end, I was victorious.

I gathered that little bird into my hand and made sure she wasn't bleeding anywhere. Then I moved my wrought iron loveseat so I could bring down the planter with the nest in it to my level. I placed the baby back in the nest and hung the planter back up so mother hummingbird could take a look for herself... 

Boy, was she concerned. I think more that I touched her baby then about the cats. Anyway, the baby is good, being refueled by mom, and encouraged to take another flight. I am staying inside as to not create another incident. The baby's wings got tired too easily when confronted with a challenge.

I'll just watch from my glass security door... but those first few seconds of "look human what I can do!" was priceless and to make me apart of their Graduation Day was sweet of them.

See what happens when you help out your fellow creatures? You get rewarded in ways that are too emotional for words. I hope tomorrow is a better day for the baby hummingbirds and that they spend a few more nights in their nest. 

Sometimes saying good-bye is such sweet sorrow. 

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Family, Friends, and Other Fantasy Creatures

Have you ever wanted to be someone else?

I find that I have those thoughts occur more often these days. Since I live virtually in a bubble for my own health and protection, I like to fantasize about going to the movies, theater, or anywhere... that isn't here.

Could you imagine living without much or any human contact? I have some friends who call but it isn't the same as sitting down and talking with someone over tea and crumpets. Okay, so I don't have tea or even any funny shaped finger sandwiches, but you get the point. 

I often dream of having people who weren't scared to be my friends. Who would help when I needed it without strings attached or complaint. Who wanted to be around me without chemicals or poisons on their person. 

But who am I kidding?

If my own family would not make the sacrifices I have to now on a daily basis, thanks in part to their unthinking and unfeeling actions about a leaky kitchen faucet that created the black mold that almost killed me (after an irresponsible employer and illegal pesticides and fungus/mold in the buildings/air ducts that nearly killed me approximately eighteen months earlier), why would anyone else on this planet make any concessions to be my cell mate? Even for an hour?

It is a sad and terrible realization to know that you are in it for the long haul... and in it alone.

I'm glad that I was made an introvert. I can stand lengths of time in silence, but I am still a human girl. I like to imagine me in ball gowns, party dresses, curled hair, perfect make up, and high heeled shoes. 

That is just a fantasy of what could have been. 

If only people would stop and think about how their actions or even inactions could affect other people. I guess that is another fantasy of mine: people who take responsibility.

I was erroneously under the impression that if you do wrong to someone you make it up to that person better than how you harmed them. Another fantasy...

And, that family or friends would take a minute to walk in my shoes before they ignore what they have done to me and still feel they are allowed to call me names.

After all I did to keep the family together... why would you treat me this way? Make me sick? Threaten me? Isolate me? Refuse medical treatment for me? Steal from me? Hit me? Bully me? Yell and scream at me? Refuse me basic care? Then abandon me for dead when you illicit the negative reaction you wanted after years of this torture to justify your getaway? Give me a break.

Even though I was very sick and fragile during the neglect, abuse, and torture, the brain has a way of saving it for later. So I remember what happened to me. All of it.

The night terrors continue... like the one that woke me with a blood curdling scream this morning.

I maybe alone, but I rather entertain what could have been then to see or hear from family or friends ever again who don't know the value of a person.

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