A drop of human hatred is enough to tarnish an ocean of praise,
the tiniest of threads unravelling to expose a withered heart.
Dear sweet Pandora, blinded by her own ignorant humanity,
unleashed a power rivalled only by your venomous words.
A moment of frivolity dancing across your tongue,
escaping your lips and seeping into fragile minds
to spread like wildfire and destroy un-expectant hosts.
But when the dust settles I will rise from the blanket of ashes,
the frailest glimmer of hope now burning in my eyes
mirrored by the hellish core still thriving within you.
The right ending is always crucial.
I am currently in the process of writing the final scenes of the present draft of my WIP. Obviously there is still a lot of work to be done in terms of editing, formatting, publishing and so on but it’s a very exciting time nonetheless.
Actually writing an ending sequence is an exhilarating yet oddly intimidating task for me however. Especially since I have known how the plot would wrap up since long before I wrote so much as a word, getting it down on paper seems daunting now. I often find myself feeling this way; specific, major plot points – including the ultimate climax – live in my head for so long that I find myself almost hesitant to actually form the scenes in words in spite of my own anticipation to progress. I suppose it’s down to a fear that I won’t be able to do justice to the clarity within my mind and this inkling of doubt is more than enough to spark off some rather annoying bouts of procrastination from time to time.
Still, I press on regardless, as my desire to share stories is far greater than any fears I may have lingering in the depths of my rather bewildered brain.
Do you picture your ending long before you write it? Do you ever worry that your words won’t do your story justice?
A graceful beauty born of a chrysalis
abundant in colour and charm.
Forgotten struggles from within,
unthinkable you would come to harm.
A gentle breeze upon a meadow,
lush with exquisite life.
Battles waged and warm blood spilt,
so quick are we to dismiss their strife.
But I see your scars and imperfections,
the tears you hide with practiced smiles.
A map of memories, loves and losses,
proof that you survived life’s trials.
So bear them proudly, your battle-worn wings,
it’s the bravest of creatures that stands and sings.
Your gift is a world of unlimited skies,
for it’s true that we are life’s butterflies.
What comes first when you write, character or plot?
With pretty much everything that I have written, it was the plot that came to me first. Specific characters formed and gave the story life later down the line, only once I had let the idea stew for a while and started plotting. Recently however the image of a character appeared in my mind so vividly; it was truly bizarre, like nothing I had ever experienced before.
I don’t yet know exactly what story will end up forming around this character (and what’s interesting is that I think she will likely take on a supporting role rather than that of the protagonist) but I already see (as cheesy as it may sound) so much of her, from her Asian heritage to her confident mannerisms; from her dry humour to her fierce intelligence; from her name to her career; this is a character I just have to do something with in the future, however far off it may be.
Do you usually come up with characters or plots first? Have you ever been struck by a character or plot idea unexpectedly?
Sonic branches reaching,
embracing many a wayward soul.
Sweep me up on your sweet melody
and lull me towards peace
with those soothing vibrations.
Feel the pulses shatter the demons,
audio solace; visual freedom;
the constant harbinger of light
in a world full of shadows.
Would you stick with a boring book?
In a recent conversation with fellow writer and blogger, Mel, we both mentioned that we will continue reading a book – no matter if we are enjoying it or not – because once we are committed to a story we are determined to see it through to the end. This is very topical for me at the moment, as I am actually currently reading a book that I’m not particularly enjoying; I’m not hating it but I’m certainly not loving it either.
It’s quite frustrating, as I have a pile of other books I want to read and a part of me can’t help but feel I’m wasting precious reading time on a story that’s just not really for me. On the other hand, especially since this particular book is a detective novel, my curiosity is driving me on; I’ll be damned if I don’t find out ‘whodunit’.
Sometimes an ending can be powerful or unexpected enough to lift the whole story and give things a new perspective and I suppose I would want readers to give my books a fair chance, so I feel almost obliged to see a book through to the (bitter) end.
Do you carry on reading a book until the end regardless of whether you are enjoying it or not? If not, how far would you read before you decided to call it quits?
What will it take
for your eyes to be opened
to the chaos that thrives in our wake?
How many lives must be lost
to our greed
for the bloodshed to come to a halt?
The devil waits not by the gates to hell.
He lives in you.
He lives in me.
Wickedness whispered in susceptible ears,
hearts distorted by a blackness of spirit
rotting us from our very core.
But we have one defence that should never relent.
Heaven is not a place on Earth,
it’s a world in which we spread only respect;
an ideal reserved for storybooks it seems.
I don’t often put a message with my poems but this one came from a place of true dismay, hence the simplicity of its words and meaning. There are an awful lot of things happening in the world right now that quite frankly make me feel ashamed to be part of the human race. It’s time we learned to respect each other as fellow human beings; nothing more, nothing less.