John Smith Discusses Earth's 12 Continents #Excerpt by Roland Hughes #Dystopian #Fiction

SK: That still doesn’t explain Earth That Was.

JS:       The seven continents.

SK: What are you talking about? There are twelve continents!

JS:       Today, yes.  Back in the day of Earth That Was, there were only seven continents and that is a map of them.  The picture hanging beside it is a picture of Earth That Was taken from outer space on a clear day.  As you can deduce from the map, it shows much of the North and South American continents.

SK: American?

JS:       <sigh> What is the first continent you encounter today when heading in the direction of where our sun sets?

SK: Dians.

JS:       What is the country we are in right now?

SK: Rica, but shouldn’t you already…

JS:       Back in the day of Earth That Was, Canada was a country occupying the northern portion of the North American continent and the United States of America occupied the lower portion of it before you got to this skinny connecting piece.  The sun traveled from this edge to that edge of the continent each day.

After the events of 2013, or during, depending upon how you look at it, part of Canada became the land mass you now call the Dians continent.  The rest of the North American continent also turned and split up.  Some say it simply had an ocean form over part of it.  The difference between split or sink doesn’t really matter.  Today, you cannot walk from one chunk to the other, so they are considered separate continents.

The country we live in now was once called America.  Several other chunks floating around the globe were also part of America. You are having trouble believing what you have been told because some big pieces that are at the root of the story are under the ocean now.  As a country, we no longer have any means of getting to them or taking pictures for others to see.  At some point, perhaps we will regain that but not at this point.

SK: Do you really expect me to believe that you have hanging on your wall a picture taken from outer space?  A beautiful picture in full color that was somehow taken while someone or something was in outer space and then given to you?

JS:       It wasn’t given, it was downloaded by my grandfather. Many people had them back at that time.

SK: Downloaded?

JS:       Yes.  With a thing called a computer over something called the Internet.  America had some kind of organization known as NASA, which sent ships, satellites and people into outer space.

SK: Internet?  People in outer space?  I don’t know what you’ve been drinking but it would have been polite to share!

JS:       <chuckle> Do you see that black rectangle resembling a book sitting over there?

SK: Yes.

JS:       On the front of it is a little ridge, which you can push to the right, then lift the top portion of it to open it.  Good.  Now near the bend where the two pieces come together is a button with a circle and a line sticking out of the circle.

SK:      I see it.

JS:       Press it.

SK: It is making noises.  There are lights flashing.  Things are appearing and disappearing on the top piece that feels like glass. What is OpenVMS?

JS:       It is the most robust computer operating system ever created by man.  Here, let me log in.

SK: Log in? Computer operating system?

“John Smith: Last Known Survivor of the Microsoft Wars” is one big interview. It is a transcript of a dialogue between “John Smith” (who, as the title of the book implies is the last known survivor of the Microsoft wars) and the interviewer for a prominent news organization.

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Genre – Dystopian Fiction

Rating – PG

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Website http://johnsmith-book.com/

@GaryTroia's #WriteTip for Creating Stories #AmWriting #ShortStories

Since I was a child in primary school I have always had a yearning to create stories from nothing. I left school without qualifications, but with some encouragement from certain teachers concerning a few stories I had written. Now I was out in the big world, and having to earn a living. I thought it was about time to forget the big idea of writing; but that yearning, so deep within me, just wouldn’t let it go.

I finally relented to the yearning and bought myself my first computer. I was so excited. Now I could write stories to my heart’s content. But there was a problem, a big problem. Every time I sat down in front of the computer, the blank white screen in front of me stared me down, winning every time. I had some ideas, but I just could never get beyond the first chapter. My first chapters were always quite good, which is not surprising, given the amount of time I worked on them, tinkering around and pondering essentials, such as should this be a comma, or perhaps; a semi colon? I ended up with a whole pile of excellent first chapters.

I decided that I would never know how those first chapters would turn out in the end, because I was far too fearful to let myself go and find out. If I ever did let myself go on the very infrequent second chapter, my ego would soon shut down proceedings by bombarding me with ideas of doubt, ridicule, and unworthiness. So I ended up giving in to fear and shutting the lid of my laptop on my dreams of writing.

One fine day, I was walking passed Richmond College, and there was an open day, so I decided to walk in and have a look. I naturally gravitated towards the literature side of things. I picked up a little booklet of courses, and saw immediately a course that was titled, How to write a…novel in a month. Needles to say I signed my name on the dotted line.

When I turned up for my first day, the class was packed. And no wonder, who would not want to learn of a way to write a novel in a month? I think many of those in the class thought they were going to get magical fairy dust sprinkled on them, but of course, it wasn’t that easy.

The idea of writing a novel in a month consisted in pledging oneself to write 1,677 words each day, so at the end of the month you would have 30,000 words of a novel, at least a first draft. I did it, and realised that the magic consisted not in fairy dust, but the magic of writing faster than your doubts can form, and making a pledge to keep you sat in the chair every day and write those 1,677 words. It is quite amazing what can be achieved with daily discipline.

For the first time ever, this collection of short stories by Gary Troia brings together, in chronological order stories and memoirs from Spanish Yarns and Beyond, English Yarns and Beyond and A Bricklayer’s Tales into one complete volume.

“Excellent! A collection of short stories about depression, alcoholism and drug use. Very compelling reading. I read this short story collection all in one go.” (Maria, Goodreads.)

A Bricklayer’s Tales is the ultimate “I hate this job” story, written as a collection of short stories and memoirs, each one revealing a snapshot in the life of Ray. Troia captures the tedium of working in a low paid, menial job and living hand to mouth. This book of short stories is sad and questions the reader to ask questions about their own life. This book achieves clarity without trying.

Ray has three expensive hobbies: drinking, drugs, and running away. Without the income that Bricklaying provides, he would not be able to maintain his chosen lifestyle, so he compromises his principles and continues with his trade.

A collection of short stories and memoirs that include:

The Cuckoo’s Egg. Boyhood antics lead to tragedy.

My Grandfather’s Shed. The making of an English key

No Comb on the Cock. Gypsies, champion fighting cocks, and career choices.

What I Did In My Summer Holidays In 1000 Words. Could having an idea ever be considered a criminal act?

My Best Mate’s Head. Did a weekend of boozing save Ray from certain death?

The Shetland Isles. A trip to sunny Benidorm, a chance meeting with some Glaswegians, and a cold, miserable job in Lerwick.

Pointing a House in Islington. Too much alcohol and cocaine don’t mix well on building sites!

Angel Dust. The peculiar story of a man whose new life in America leads to conversations with Ancient Greek philosophers

Peyote. Hippies, LSD and an idyllic refuge

Return Ticket. Handcuffed and ready for deportation. A sad departure from the States

When I Joined a Cult. Sober dating as Ray discovers religion.

Bilbao. How very, very English!

Teaching Other People. The grass is always greener-the escape from bricklaying.

A Week in the Life of Ray Dennis. With the prospect of no money for food or alcohol this Christmas, Ray has to find work quickly.

Catania. A meeting with a Sicilian fox, some Neapolitans, and a man with a camel haired coat.

Advert In The Art Shop Window. Will a new building job in Spain be the start of a new life?

Gaudi. A flight to Barcelona for a kebab, and a look at the Sagrada Familia.

The Day My Soul Left Me. “To be or not to be? That is the question”

How Not to Travel to The Alhambra. Hung-over, the wrong fuel, the car breaks down. Will they ever make it to Granada?

The Road To Ronda. A terrifying drive to Ronda, was it worth it?

Poking A Carob Tree. A new home and new neighbours, just in time for Christmas.

Spain Reborn.No more commuting to London. Lets celebrate!

Home From Home. A parallel world where the Spanish have taken over Weymouth.

Three Common Carp.An epic battle with a whale and marlin it is not.

Mrs. McClintock. An absurd farce in which a Glaswegian couple retire to Spain

Steak, Egg and Intensive Care. A harmless dinner leads to hospitalisation.

The Unchangeable Chameleon. Can a leopard change it’s spots?

A Bricklayer’s Tale. The story of a disillusioned, alcoholic bricklayer

A collection short stories and memoirs of British dark humour.

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Genre - Fiction, Short Stories

Rating - PG-16

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NOTHING IN PARTICULAR #Excerpt by Kate LeDonne @originlbookgirl #AmReading #Fiction

My grandparents actually call me Cinderella, but they never say anything to their son about how he treats me or my mother.

I love my grandparents. They are the only people I am related to that ever act like they are glad I was born. They love me in their own way. They choose to live in a reality where their son isn’t really an evil bastard. Too bad it isn’t true reality. Dale Graves is my grandfather.

He’s about six feet tall, with steel gray hair and periwinkle blue eyes. His hands are big and rough, but gentle. They are the hands of a working man. He is a retired plumber. He was one of eight kids and the only one to go to college. He couldn’t get the kind of job he wanted because of the Depression, so he got what employment there was and then he stayed because he made a good living. He reads all the time and does crosswords. I have only heard him raise his voice once. He speaks with a low, deep voice that is so soft you have to strain to hear him. He has always been gentle, patient and loving to me. He is my favorite male human. Lucille Graves is his wife and my grandmother. She is four feet eight inches of spunk and wit. She has mouse brown hair that she gets done once a week, usually Friday, at her beauty parlor. She has a kind face and sparkling hazel eyes that seem to look right through to your soul. My Grandma makes the best desserts you’ve ever tasted and she sews all of her own clothes. She is a homemaker, but once worked as a secretary. That’s how she and Grandpa met.

The sink in the executive bathroom flooded and she called a plumber and voilà… she and Grandpa became an item. She is highly intelligent, but she never had the opportunity to go to a university or have any secondary education. She wanted to be a nurse, and as much as she fusses with people, I think she would’ve been great. She feeds absolutely everyone and loves to talk. She’s a little bit of a gossip, but mostly just because she is interested in other people. She is the hostess with the mostess. I adore them to my detriment because they can manipulate me really easily. I always feel so guilty if I say “no” to them. They force me to hug and kiss my father, which I resent. They always have because they know that otherwise I won’t. I was always afraid of him as long as I can remember — and I remember being a baby.

I return to my room as the washer chugs along and de-funkifies our clothes. I straighten things up after unpacking my overnight bag and I get my school crap ready to go. I slip a mixed tape in my walkman to keep me company as I vacuum, dust, polish, clean and straighten each room.

Siouxsie’s voice purrs as smooth as silk about putting your head down to the ground and shaking it all around when you slowdive.

Fasten your seatbelts for a white-knuckled ride on the looney wagon and trip down memory lane with a band of misfit teenagers. Kiera Graves and her small posse of true blue friends plot ways to escape their cowtown; and play a game of keep away with her Machiavellian family to help her survive high school and make it to college.

Courage under fire, the closest bonds of friendship and blossoming romance keep this tale of coming of age and survival buzzing with excitement, heart, and warmth.

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Genre – General Fiction

Rating – PG-13

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Website http://kateledonne.com/

T. D. Von Dohren on What Inspired Her To Write Daughter of the Moon @tdvondohren #Fantasy

What Inspired Me To Write My Book

Have you ever looked at the world and wondered how much better off we would all be if we just learned to accept others the way we accept ourselves? My whole life I have always been a little bit different, which in Australia meant you were destined to be bullied. You see, part of our culture is that we show our acceptance and friendship through poking fun at each other. Its part of what gives Australian’s such a great sense of humour and laid back view of the world. On the flip side though, it doesn’t exactly encourage over achievers, so for a child who was tested and found to be academically two and half years ahead of herself at the young age of seven and who would drift between social circles because none of them really felt like a fit, it was tough.

As I grew up I learned to hide my intelligence and any talents that would make me stand out from a crowd while at school, but made sure to pursue them in my spare time. I begged my parents to let me sign up for an after school acting academy and speech and drama classes and I credit these to helping me re-build a confidence that was being crushed daily in the school yard. Not that I regret it or feel any ill will to those who facilitated it, because it was this experience which got me thinking. Why do nice people often get caught up in the bullying of others, why do we often regret the choices we make after the fact and what could be done to change this human habit?

I came to realise that the answer was acceptance. You hear the message more and more these days that we need to accept ourselves before we can accept others, but how many people do you know that actually follow through with the second part of that statement… Accepting others. Who are we to decide if a competent and trusted boss has made the wrong choice when we don’t know all the circumstances? How can we decide who someone should marry when we are unaware of how their heart truly feels? If a nation knows only to rule through punishment, can we truly berate them simply because they are unaware there is another option? I believe that before we make these decisions to judge, we should first choose to open ourselves up to viewing the situation through another’s eyes. It is through understanding that we learn and through acceptance that we can teach.

So I wrote a story, where vampires save the world and the gods we worship show their dark side, because I believe it is time for humanity to realise that there is good and bad, yin and yang, in everything, every being and every action. What matters is that we see both, accept both, and make choices that reflect the morals of our own spirit. I hope you enjoy.

What do Jesus Christ, a Greek Goddess, and a thousand-year-old Vampyre have in common? This intriguing and thought provoking story will make you question everything you think you know about myth and religion. Chhaya, a vampire born over a millennium ago, discovers she is the descendant of an ancient bloodline-the blood of Christ. As the power in her awakens, Chhaya must use her new gifts as the Daughter of the Moon to fight against the corrupt coven leader Khai in order to protect the doors to heaven and hell and prevent the end of days on earth. Whether a fan of fantasy, religious theories, or mythology, you'll be inspired to ask what is good and what is evil.

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Genre - Fiction Fantasy

Rating – PG

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