At my desk, my fingers clacked quickly against the keyboard. I’ve been thinking about this one for a while. This chapter. Chapter 22.

I ran my hand through my hair, which oddly stopped short. Pulling my hand out from behind my ears, I gasped. Short, white strands of silky hair were intertwined in my fingers.

I grabbed a handful of my hair, thrusting it forward so I could see it. I see the same ...

_At last!_

I snap shut my spiral notebook. I had promised this was the final piece of the horror genre I'd be authoring. Each time I complete a story, the silence in my apartment becomes even more unsettling, and the solitude becomes more troubling.

I went to the kitchen just outside my bedroom door to make popcorn when the sound of the bathroom faucet streaming struck me. I concluded it was a str...

I sit staring at my laptop screen, drumming my fingers on the desk and everything else within reach as I try to regain the will to write. Somehow my motivation always seems to slip away right when I need it most. I decide to do something crazy.

This novel stars a young woman who is, herself, writing a book. (Yes, it is very possible that I designed this woman after myself, but don’t worry...

“At some point in life the question of who or what am I inevitably appears. Neither sorcery or longevity keep the inner voice asking. Most species create gods and religious orders to offer hope. Whether this is real or misguided is not known. Savagery and war resulting from them are. It is for each individual to consider this question without indoctrination. Never forget though that life is precio...

The blot of ink fell from my shaky pen. A black pool on the white paper began a spin. First the few words were pulled from the page, each letter stretched into a singularity. Then I felt a strong pull of gravity, I tried to pull myself away from the desk. No use. I fell head first, feet kicking into that black hole no bigger than a coin. The whirl and twist was a spin that would not stop. I was l...

I’ve had these ideas floating around in my head for about a month now. Nothing completely solid. Just simple plot points mapped out on paper, not yet linked together, but I know I want to include them.

It was one such afternoon of writing notes on each of my characters, the grumpy-and-seemingly-nonchalant-but-secretly-actually-cares-‘you’re-an-idiot’ detective, the sneaky but overly cocky thief a...

Whoosh, I’m suddenly in a bar and I pause in confusion. But it’s as if this scene keeps happening around me regardless. I look at my hand, it’s my hand. I keep looking to check it’s real and these automatons just keep going around me, despite my lack of mutual interest.

I look up and notice this gorgeous girl across the bar making eyes at me. What on earth is happening?

I look at her again. She’...

Life could be fantastic, terrifying, and just plain strange at the same time. About sixty-five percent of the time, you would not know what to do with it. A hundred percent of the time, there was something about it that you would regret.

It all happened one day when you are whittling away castles, forests, and places far away that no one could ever imagined with your trusted pen and ripped out...

The imagination is a wonderful thing... But what happens when you cross the border between fiction and reality?

Well, I have the answer to that question and I found it in the most literal (and impossible) way possible!

——

Today was just an ordinary day for me as I sat down on my iPad, ready to continue working on an ongoing project called ‘Role Reversal’. I had been working on Role Reversal for...

“Hey, babe! I’m going to the writing cave. I need to knock out at least 1,000 words tonight. Don’t wait up for me,” Kara called to Sam, her husband.

Sam just chuckles, and kisses his wife.

Kara climbs up to the attic space that she transformed into a Pinterest worthy writing cave. She has her inspiration board on the wall next to the window, notes are scattered everywhere, and images of actors ...