Writing Prompt

Hello, Everyone!

Here is today’s writing prompt. “King Midas has finally fallen in love with someone who is immune to his curse: Medusa. And he is immune to hers. However, things aren’t going as planned at the royal wedding.” -Thanks to Aaron_Abysmal from Reddit for the prompt.

As always remember that this short story is copy righted, use of it, without my permission, is ILLEGAL. I own this content.

On a less serious note, please write and tag me so I can read what you came up with using the same prompt.

Rocky situation

It is a terrible thing to be unable to touch another. Surrounded and yet alone. So when I met my snake-like girl, it was the best day of my life. She had a curse as well. Those who looked at her would turn to stone. For some unexplainable reason, I could look at her and she can touch me, without the nasty side effects we have. After enjoying each other’s company for three years, we have decided to tie the knot. We obviously did not think things through.

One of our photographers has already been turned to stone. My second aunt and two of my nephews have joined in those ranks. The mother of my bride and uncle Jimmy forgot to leave me be and has been turned to gold. There is nothing we can do other than reminding out guest to not look upon the bride and to keep your distance from me.

The whole party may end in stone and gold, but who could care when we are happy to have another.

 

That is all for today.

Be free and keep reading!

Ta, ta.

At any time if you think, “Hey, Astrid, you should do a post on [fill in the blank].” Send me an email to penname.books@gmail.com or comment below.
Are you an author? Do you want me to read your book? Send business inquiries to penname.books@gmail.com. Let me know my blog sent you 🙂
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Book Review (Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater)

Hello, Everyone!

I first heard of Maggie Stiefvater when I was in high school. I read the Shiver Series (a werewolf romance type series). I loved that series very much. When I found out that she wrote another series, I was conflicted. Of course, a part of me wanted to read the series; I loved the other one so much after all. However, another part of me did not want to read it because I was worried that it would not be as good as Shiver.

Que a wonderful person on Instagram (I can’t find the comment, to give you credit, if this was you, thank you!) telling me that the series would not disappoint. As you can see, I gave it a try.

The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater

raven boys

Astrid’s Description: Blue lives in a house with several clairvoyant women. One of which is her mother. Very year Blue assists in writing down the names of the spirits that are destined to die. Blue has never been able to see or hear these spirits until this year. Then she sees only one. It just so happens that this boy is the one she is destined to love, and kill if she kisses him.

Blue had always made a point to stay away from boys, especially boys like Gansey. But you cannot run from fate. It has a way of creeping up on you.

 

I love this book, and I plan on reading the rest of the series this week. Maggie has this way of describing this that lights your imagination and sparks your senses. I adored it in the Shiver series, and I enjoy it now. Every character has a background and you are given the information you need to understand them. The characters learn and grow. They each have their own personality, and it shows. I did not notice any points where one character was not themselves. There were not switching plot details or holes. The story had me questioning and hooked enough that I read it in one day. It was a fabulous read.

I borrowed this book from my friend and have now added it to my list of Books to Buy. Overall I am thrilled with this story.

That is all for today.

Be free and keep reading!

Ta, ta.

At any time if you think, “Hey, Astrid, you should do a post on [fill in the blank].” Send me an email to penname.books@gmail.com or comment below.
Are you an author? Do you want me to read your book? Send business inquiries to penname.books@gmail.com. Let me know my blog sent you 🙂
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Writing Prompt

Hello, Everyone!

Today’s prompt is, “Heart Break”. Please allow me to preface this with I was too lazy to write something new and so this is a bit of an “emo” poem I wrote after a bad break up with a boyfriend when I was younger. I know, the point of this is to do something new. But it has been a hell of a week, so you get this.

Poem- Broken

Broken

Eyes so kind and pure
Lips so soft and sweet
Arms so tender and caring
A mind so thoughtful and smart
A Heart so loving and true

The man who stole me
Stole my heart, body, and mind

He made me
Lifted me up
Called me beautiful

I was finally
Beauty

I was finally
Someone

I was finally
Wanted

Then he left

He stole me and left
Stole my heart
left me to my tears

I am yet again
Sad
Ugly
alone

I am unwanted

Never to be loved

Ever Again

 

By the way, I met my now husband the same day that this relationship ended. I am happy that I am with my husband and not the guy that inspired this, terribly written, poem.

 

That is all for today.

Be free and keep reading!

Ta, ta.

At any time if you think, “Hey, Astrid, you should do a post on [fill in the blank].” Send me an email to penname.books@gmail.com or comment below.
Are you an author? Do you want me to read your book? Send business inquiries to penname.books@gmail.com. Let me know my blog sent you 🙂
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Book Review (The Subtle Art Of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life by Mark Manson)

Hello, Everyone!

I don’t know if any of you could tell, but the month of July was terrible for me. I was feeling overwhelmed and depressed. To the point that I slept through most days. Not good and at the end of the month, I thought that maybe I should try something to help myself out. Que me looking up self-help books. Before I started reading any of them, a friend suggested this one. I am glad she did.

The Subtle Art Of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life by Mark Manson

not giving a f

Astrid’s Description: Are you sick of affirmations and the “look on the bright side” suggestions? Do you feel like those self-help books and useless and unhelpful? Then this is the book for you!

 

No, seriously, this is the one for you. Standing in front of a mirror every day and telling myself that today will be a good day and I will be happy NEVER helps. It doesn’t; because the fact is that life sucks. Bad things happen, and no matter what you do they will always happen. Everyone has problems because it is LIFE! This book is about that.

It is about placing you F*cks in an area that is beneficial to you and your mental health. It is about setting the right mind frame to feel accomplished. For example, I have written three Novellas and one novel, but I feel like a failure because none of them are selling the way I want them too. The Subtle Art Of Not Giving A F*ck helped me see that I was placing my success on other peoples opinions. No matter how hard I try, I will never be able to control those opinions. I need to put stock on myself. I need to see my success in a way that I can control.

So thank you, Mark.

Mark, goes heavily into each aspect. I was not left questioning or doubting. I know what I need to do and how to do it.

As I stated earlier, I borrowed this book from a friend, but after the first chapter, I bought it for myself.

Even if you do not feel like you are struggling, I still suggest giving this book a read and actually searching inside yourself to see if you have an area you could give fewer F*cks about.

That is all for today.

Be free and keep reading!

Ta, ta.

At any time if you think, “Hey, Astrid, you should do a post on [fill in the blank].” Send me an email to penname.books@gmail.com or comment below.
Are you an author? Do you want me to read your book? Send business inquiries to penname.books@gmail.com. Let me know my blog sent you 🙂
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Writing Prompt

Hello, Everyone!

Today’s prompt was actually a challenge I made for myself. I am not very good at poetry, and I have been fiddling with it and reading up on it to better myself.

“Write a poem about an important topic” Be aware that this poem is copy righted, use of it is ILLEGAL. I own this poem.

poem-colors

Colors

Black, White
Yellow, Brown
These colors blur
make the world cut down

Love thy neighbor
Mama taught
Hate thy sin
but we forgot

We sit and judge
then  pretend to help
It don’t matter
our opinions refuse to budge

Look! He is different
laugh and tease
He gets down on his knees
He begs “please God please”

It don’t matter
He isn’t you
He isn’t family
He is a natter

He is black
She is white
She assumes crack
He assumes spite

She is yellow
He is brown
He assumes odd fellow
She assumes knuckle down

Why do you judge?
Why force our morals
on those who are not us
Why?

Because their colors
Are not my colors

They aren’t me
They are different

Different life
Different colors

 

That is all for today.

Be free and keep reading!

Ta, ta.

At any time if you think, “Hey, Astrid, you should do a post on [fill in the blank].” Send me an email to penname.books@gmail.com or comment below.
Are you an author? Do you want me to read your book? Send business inquiries to penname.books@gmail.com. Let me know my blog sent you 🙂
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Book Haul

Hello, Everyone!

As promised, not a romance book review. I have a few non-romance posts coming after this. After this haul, I still have two more to do and then I will be out of hauls until the next library book sale I attend. Anyway, let’s get into this haul.

20170422_134550

A Year of Marvellous Ways by Sarah Winman

“Marvellous Ways is eighty-nine years old and has lived alone in a remote Cornish creek for nearly all her life. Lately she’s taken to spending her days sitting on a mooring stone by the river with a telescope. She’s waiting for something – she’s not sure what, but she’ll know it when she sees it.

Drake is a young soldier left reeling by the Second World War. When his promise to fulfill a dying man’s last wish sees him wash up in Marvellous’ creek, broken in body and spirit, the old woman comes to his aid.

A Year of Marvellous Ways is a glorious, life-affirming story about the magic in everyday life and the pull of the sea, the healing powers of storytelling and sloe gin, love and death and how we carry on when grief comes snapping at our heels.”*
*source Goodreads

 

The Nanny Diaries by Emma Mclaughlin and Nicola Kraus

“Wanted: One young woman to take care of four-year-old boy. Must be cheerful, enthusiastic and selfless–bordering on masochistic. Must relish sixteen-hour shifts with a deliberately nap-deprived preschooler. Must love getting thrown up on, literally and figuratively, by everyone in his family. Must enjoy the delicious anticipation of ridiculously erratic pay. Mostly, must love being treated like fungus found growing out of employers Hermès bag. Those who take it personally need not apply. Who wouldn’t want this job? Struggling to graduate from NYU and afford her microscopic studio apartment, Nanny takes a position caring for the only son of the wealthy X family. She rapidly learns the insane amount of juggling involved to ensure that a Park Avenue wife who doesn’t work, cook, clean, or raise her own child has a smooth day. When the X’s’ marriage begins to disintegrate, Nanny ends up involved way beyond the bounds of human decency or good taste. Her tenure with the X family becomes a nearly impossible mission to maintain the mental health of their four-year-old, her own integrity and, most importantly, her sense of humor. Over nine tense months, Mrs. X and Nanny perform the age-old dance of decorum and power as they test the limits of modern-day servitude. Written by two former nannies, The Nanny Diaries deftly punctures the glamour of Manhattan’s upper class.”*
*source Goodreads

 

Wolf Totem by Jiang Rong

“Published in China in 2004, Wolf Totem has broken all sales records, selling millions of copies (along with millions more on the black market). Part period epic, part fable for modern days, Wolf Totem depicts the dying culture of the Mongols–the ancestors of the Mongol hordes who at one time terrorized the world–and the parallel extinction of the animal they believe to be sacred: the fierce and otherworldly Mongolian wolf. Beautifully translated by Howard Goldblatt, the foremost translator of Chinese fiction, this extraordinary novel is finally available in English”*
*source Goodreads

 

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

The beautiful classic tale of crazy people in love and messing with the other. I have read this book a couple of times and I actually loved it. When I found if for sale for only one dollar I HAD to buy it. Catherine and Heathcliff, here I come!

 

That is all for today.

Be free and keep reading!

Ta, ta.

At any time if you think, “Hey, Astrid, you should do a post on [fill in the blank].” Send me an email to penname.books@gmail.com or comment below.
Are you an author? Do you want me to read your book? Send business inquiries to penname.books@gmail.com. Let me know my blog sent you 🙂
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Writing Prompt!

Hello, Everyone!

As promised, here is the first writing prompt. Writing this legit made me cry. As I stated earlier, this is not edited.

“Write about your worst nightmare coming to life.”  Be aware that this story is copy righted, use of it is ILLEGAL. I own this story.

 

The Loss

Worst Nightmare- His Death

Although I don’t feel like I am, I am conscience. A glance at a clock, the hands tick, ticking, proves it. The quiet murmurs around me are white noise. A large lady keeps coming up to me. She grasps me uncomfortably each time. I scream in my mind. I beg for her to stop touching me. But I don’t speak.

I can’t speak. Instead, I sit and act as if I am listening to the assurances spilling from those around me. I have an angered or sarcastic retort for every person I see. But the words never leave my mind. I react to no one. God, what would I give for silence;  to alone and leave the world behind.

“Aww, sweetheart I’m so sorry.” his Mother says to me as she wants to gain assaults me with her chunky arms.

My skin crawls at her touch. I smirk, but say nothing. She can work the room all she wants. I do not need the condolences. I need my husband. But I can’t have that. I will never have his calm, steady embrace again.

I glance at the casket once more.

I’m the only one that knows what really happened. I followed his wishes to the T, but I felt empty and alone.

 

My dearest sweetie pie,
     I know I said I would not let it come to this, but I can’t be the reason you cry yourself to sleep. I left the letters and the voice recordings on my computer for you. I’m sorry that I ever allowed our love to be this strong. I knew I didn’t deserve it, but I took what you offered anyway.
     I did love you. Assuming that my “soul” Survives, I still love you now. I do have one favor to ask. Though I know that I don’t deserve to ask, I will anyway.
     Letters on my computer are not just for you. I left one for each of my family members. If you could get them all together and give them the note I wrote, I would appreciate it. On my thing, please don’t tell them how I died. Please lie, why must time please buy for me. I left it out of my letters, but I do have an excuse. Tell them I was having heart problems and died from heart attack, lookup “Coronary artery disease”  as preparation to answer the questions. I would prefer if you were the only one to know what that I took my own life.
     I am sorry it had to end this way. I was nothing you could have done to stop me. I had a wonderful 10 years with you.

All my love, Tim

 

He was kind enough to make sure that I wasn’t the one that found him. He was on his way home from the grocery store when he had a “ heart attack”. The car accident was real as was the heart attack. The trick was that he’s somehow managed to induce one.

My husband, the only man I’ve ever loved, killed himself.

So here I sit. I am alone. It doesn’t matter that I’m surrounded by sixty of our closest friends and family. Who cares that I am with my husband’s mom’s uncomfortable hugs, people saying “ sorry”, and the most annoying “he is in a better place”.

Tim didn’t believe in God. I didn’t either, though no one knew our position. We had long ago changed our minds on religion and religious matters. Our family was heavily into there being a God and afterlife. So to keep the peace we didn’t tell them how we felt.  

After the eighteenth hug from my mother-in-law, I left. I went into my room and changed my black fitted dress for jeans and a button-up shirt. The shirt was a dull dark gray. It had been Tim’s. I slipped my sock covered feet into my boots and jumped out the bedroom window.

The colors around me word vibrant. That was why Tim and I picked this massive property. We love the outdoors. Today it seemed all wrong. How could the world keep going without Tim’s laughter? How could I keep going without his gentle push in the right direction?

I saunter to our… my small barn. My fingers brush down in Tim’s tall, dark horse’s his nose.

“Hi, Baby Girl,” I whispered. “You know he’s gone, don’t cha?”

Baby girl pushes her massive, black head into me. It was her way of agreeing with me. She understands my pain. Baby Girl knew him as well as I do…did

“Let’s get out of here.”

This time I stumbled back a few steps from her shove.

My boots click clack along with Baby Girl’s steps as I take her out. Getting tacked up was all muscle memory. I walk her out of the barn, tighten my saddle, and left. Voice called my name in the distance, but I ignore it. They don’t need me, and I don’t want them.

Baby Girl and I walk for a while. I am emotionally driven, but I retain enough sanity to know that taking off at crazy speeds could hurt the horse. My hips rock with her steps, and then we go a little faster. I stand and sit in my saddle following along with her movement until I know we can go faster. Then like a bullet we take off.

Baby Girl was fast. The wind pushed against us. It was freeing. The whooshing keeps the voices in my head quiet for a time. We do not slow until we are slick with sweat.

This last week was my nightmare. The only man I’ve ever loved was gone. But I had friends and family I could lean on, it wasn’t the same.

My husband was gone, and I was alone. Sure he wanted me to find someone else, though I never would. There never was anyone else out there for me. He was it, and now he is gone,  permanently.

 

Be free and keep reading!

Ta, ta.

At any time if you think, “Hey, Astrid, you should do a post on [fill in the blank].” Send me an email to penname.books@gmail.com or comment below.
Are you an author? Do you want me to read your book? Send business inquiries to penname.books@gmail.com. Let me know my blog sent you 🙂
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