Ann Loyal's Blog: The Starving Writer's Blog
September 4, 2018
January 31, 2018
01/31/2018 - Penuary
Last one :(
Puny Lives -
Have you ever seen the movie A Bug’s Life?
Do you remember when Hopper compares an ant to a grain of wheat? He was telling his disciples that one ant is harmless.
That’s us.
Each and every one of us is harmless. We go about our lives living day to day on the fact that we are as powerless as an one puny ant.
Or course, there are exceptions, like Flik. There are a few of us who stand up for what is right. Those few want to change the world, but what is a few grains of wheat? Hopper threw those at his followers to show them even if a small number of ants stood up to them, they were still harmless.
We are harmless beings after all.
But in the end, he poured all the grain and crushed his unfortunate supporters. All of our puny lives can add up to a crushing wave of change. What is one voice to a choir? If we all stand up against what is wrong in the world, what choice will the world have but to surrender to the masses. We may not be able to make a difference as individuals, but we can change the world for the better if we stand together and fight for what is right.
#write20for31 #creativenonfiction #penuary2018
Puny Lives -
Have you ever seen the movie A Bug’s Life?
Do you remember when Hopper compares an ant to a grain of wheat? He was telling his disciples that one ant is harmless.
That’s us.
Each and every one of us is harmless. We go about our lives living day to day on the fact that we are as powerless as an one puny ant.
Or course, there are exceptions, like Flik. There are a few of us who stand up for what is right. Those few want to change the world, but what is a few grains of wheat? Hopper threw those at his followers to show them even if a small number of ants stood up to them, they were still harmless.
We are harmless beings after all.
But in the end, he poured all the grain and crushed his unfortunate supporters. All of our puny lives can add up to a crushing wave of change. What is one voice to a choir? If we all stand up against what is wrong in the world, what choice will the world have but to surrender to the masses. We may not be able to make a difference as individuals, but we can change the world for the better if we stand together and fight for what is right.
#write20for31 #creativenonfiction #penuary2018
01/30/2018 - Penuary
Leading Liberty [WIP]
I stared at Mr. Conklin with a intense glare. He was everything I hated about slavery. He didn't care for anyone but himself. Money was the only thing that made him happy, even if it meant his happiness came from using other human beings like farm animals. He was one of the few remaining slave owners that still breeded his slaves to sell them.
“You must be the Burr girl,” he growled. His deep voice sounded harsh.
“I am,” I replied. “And your the monster how killed that poor man,” I added.
He smirked. “Hector?” he asked as if he wasn't sure what we were talking about, but it was clear he knew all too well what I meant. “He was just a useless slave.”
I snarled at him. “Slavery is coming to an end, Mr. Conklin,” I barked.
He laughed. “To abolish slavery would be like abolishing the right the bear arms. I doubt I would ever happen,” he replied with a huge, creepy grin.
“Don't be so sure. It's coming whether you like it or not.”
His smile turned to a snarled. “You don't know what you’re talking about. You’re just a silly little girl.”
I stood straight and smirked. “I'm the silly little girl who's cost you a lot of slaves,” I taunted. “And I won't stop helping them get away until I'm dead.”
He returned a wicked smile that sent chills down my back. “That can be arranged.”
#write20for31 #penuary2018
I stared at Mr. Conklin with a intense glare. He was everything I hated about slavery. He didn't care for anyone but himself. Money was the only thing that made him happy, even if it meant his happiness came from using other human beings like farm animals. He was one of the few remaining slave owners that still breeded his slaves to sell them.
“You must be the Burr girl,” he growled. His deep voice sounded harsh.
“I am,” I replied. “And your the monster how killed that poor man,” I added.
He smirked. “Hector?” he asked as if he wasn't sure what we were talking about, but it was clear he knew all too well what I meant. “He was just a useless slave.”
I snarled at him. “Slavery is coming to an end, Mr. Conklin,” I barked.
He laughed. “To abolish slavery would be like abolishing the right the bear arms. I doubt I would ever happen,” he replied with a huge, creepy grin.
“Don't be so sure. It's coming whether you like it or not.”
His smile turned to a snarled. “You don't know what you’re talking about. You’re just a silly little girl.”
I stood straight and smirked. “I'm the silly little girl who's cost you a lot of slaves,” I taunted. “And I won't stop helping them get away until I'm dead.”
He returned a wicked smile that sent chills down my back. “That can be arranged.”
#write20for31 #penuary2018
01/29/2018 - Penuary
AffterEffect [WIP]
Kaesy looked down at the raw seafood. She didn't know if her dad would like salmon or shrimp for dinner. She asked for both. A man appeared next her. He studied the meat, but something seemed off about him. It was like he was standing there and not really looking. Kasey glanced at him. He looked familiar, but she could place him. He turned to her and started to stare.
“Can I help you?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable.
“The queen is dead,” he replied with a British accent.
“Yes, I know,” she replied. He didn't say a thing. He just kept staring. “What?” she snapped.
He smirked. “Has Perseus told you anything about it?”
Kasey stepped away. “You know my father?”
His smirk went unchanged. “We’ve known each other for almost thirty years now.”
“He’s never mentioned you before.”
His wicked smiled faded into a frown as if he was reminded of something terrible. “I doubt he would have. We’re not exactly friends,” he said and stepped closer to her. She was suddenly afraid, but she was prepared to either fight or run. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said forcefully.
“No, he hasn’t told me anything about it. In fact, I haven’t even really seen him since we found out about the queen,” Kasey replied as calmly as she could. She didn't want to show him her fear.
“I see,” he replied. It was like he was talking to himself. Then, he grinned widely. “Well, thank you for your time,” he added and walked away. Kasey wasn’t sure what to make of that encounter. All she knew was that it gave her a very eerie feeling.
#penuary2018 #write20for31
Kaesy looked down at the raw seafood. She didn't know if her dad would like salmon or shrimp for dinner. She asked for both. A man appeared next her. He studied the meat, but something seemed off about him. It was like he was standing there and not really looking. Kasey glanced at him. He looked familiar, but she could place him. He turned to her and started to stare.
“Can I help you?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable.
“The queen is dead,” he replied with a British accent.
“Yes, I know,” she replied. He didn't say a thing. He just kept staring. “What?” she snapped.
He smirked. “Has Perseus told you anything about it?”
Kasey stepped away. “You know my father?”
His smirk went unchanged. “We’ve known each other for almost thirty years now.”
“He’s never mentioned you before.”
His wicked smiled faded into a frown as if he was reminded of something terrible. “I doubt he would have. We’re not exactly friends,” he said and stepped closer to her. She was suddenly afraid, but she was prepared to either fight or run. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said forcefully.
“No, he hasn’t told me anything about it. In fact, I haven’t even really seen him since we found out about the queen,” Kasey replied as calmly as she could. She didn't want to show him her fear.
“I see,” he replied. It was like he was talking to himself. Then, he grinned widely. “Well, thank you for your time,” he added and walked away. Kasey wasn’t sure what to make of that encounter. All she knew was that it gave her a very eerie feeling.
#penuary2018 #write20for31
01/28/2018 - Penuary
If Shoes Could Talk -
Mario walked the streets of his childhood. Nothing had changed, not even the shoes that hung from the telephone cables and power lines. There were at least thirty pairs all along the the street Mario walked down. The small, broken houses looked the same as they did twenty years ago. Even the people appeared the same. Living day to day on two or three minimum wage part-time jobs. Hispanic, African-American, and White alike.
He passed the house that was still the stronghold for the street gang that ruled Highland Avenue since he was a boy. Glancing over to the four men that sat on the porch with handguns tucked in this pants. They watched him with suspicion, but didn’t bother to tell him anything. One bobbed his head at him as if to say hi. Mario just nodded back once and walked a little quicker. He knew them from growing up on the same street with them, but they had gone separate ways when they reached teenhood. Mario wanted to get out of there, so he worked hard, went to college, and was now a English professor at UCLA. Those guys were drug dealers.
Mario stopped at the house his grandmother owned and raised him in. It was rundown and empty. No one had lived there since Mama Lola died. It was a sad sight. Not only did she raise Mario, but she took in anyone who wanted to get away from the gang. Her house was like sacred ground in that neighborhood.
He looked up to see the pair of high-tops he had thrown up to the phone wire when he graduated high school. A mix of grief and pride filled him. Those shoes had been the only pair he had in high school. They had been through all his girlfriends, all his beatens he got from the gang who wanted him to join, all the walking he did to and from school. That fabric and rubber were witnesses to what the ghetto really was. If they could talk, they would tell the most heartbreaking stories, but they would also tell stories of survival and living life to the fullest.
#write20for31 #flashfiction #penuary2018
Mario walked the streets of his childhood. Nothing had changed, not even the shoes that hung from the telephone cables and power lines. There were at least thirty pairs all along the the street Mario walked down. The small, broken houses looked the same as they did twenty years ago. Even the people appeared the same. Living day to day on two or three minimum wage part-time jobs. Hispanic, African-American, and White alike.
He passed the house that was still the stronghold for the street gang that ruled Highland Avenue since he was a boy. Glancing over to the four men that sat on the porch with handguns tucked in this pants. They watched him with suspicion, but didn’t bother to tell him anything. One bobbed his head at him as if to say hi. Mario just nodded back once and walked a little quicker. He knew them from growing up on the same street with them, but they had gone separate ways when they reached teenhood. Mario wanted to get out of there, so he worked hard, went to college, and was now a English professor at UCLA. Those guys were drug dealers.
Mario stopped at the house his grandmother owned and raised him in. It was rundown and empty. No one had lived there since Mama Lola died. It was a sad sight. Not only did she raise Mario, but she took in anyone who wanted to get away from the gang. Her house was like sacred ground in that neighborhood.
He looked up to see the pair of high-tops he had thrown up to the phone wire when he graduated high school. A mix of grief and pride filled him. Those shoes had been the only pair he had in high school. They had been through all his girlfriends, all his beatens he got from the gang who wanted him to join, all the walking he did to and from school. That fabric and rubber were witnesses to what the ghetto really was. If they could talk, they would tell the most heartbreaking stories, but they would also tell stories of survival and living life to the fullest.
#write20for31 #flashfiction #penuary2018
January 30, 2018
01/27/2018 - Penuary
Castle Law [WIP: possible scene]
I sat in on the pool chair and opened the novel. The party was going on around me. Theo really liked the music loud and no one seemed to mind. If I was anything like the people around me then maybe I would like this party too. I never fit into the world of rich kids, and I doubt I ever would. Suddenly, someone splashed water all over me and my book, soaking the pages. I slammed it shut and looked around, but my glasses were wet. I took them off, grabbed a towel, and dried them.
“Jade, watch out!” Greg yelled.
I quickly glanced up to see a volleyball coming right at my head. I moved just as the ball slammed into the chair where my head was just a split second ago. I exhaled in relief. Then, I realized that I just did that without my glasses. That could give my identity away. I looked around to see a few eyes on me.They seemed surprised that I dodged the ball, but not really concerned that I did it with my glasses off.
“Nice reflexes, sis!” Theo called from the pool.
“Sorry about that,” a girl said as she grabbed the ball and threw it back to the sand court. She ran away before I could reply.
As I finished cleaning my glasses, Greg came over and sat next to me as I put my glasses back on. “Nice reflexes indeed,” he echoed. I glanced at him. He was giving me a look of suspicion. If anyone noticed what really happened, it would have been him.
“Thanks,” I replied, trying to sound as innocent as I could.
“You’re eyesight must not be as bad as it seems.”
“I’m near-sighted, so I saw the ball coming,” I lied, but he’s expression went unchanged. “You don’t believe me?”
“Not really,” he replied. His honestly was a bit shocking.
I chuckled. “It’s not like I wear glasses for fun.”
“I seriously doubt you would wear then for the heck of it,” he replied as he stood. “So, then why do you wear them?” he asked, but I didn’t answer. He smiled, which took me by surprise. “Knowing you, it must be for something very important,” he said and began to talk away. “You should try to enjoy the party,” he added and left me alone. I wasn't sure what to do next. He definitely suspected me now, but what exactly did he think. Was he smart enough to put the very distant things together? I highly doubt he figured out that I was a spy just then. I’m sure my true identity was safe--for now.
#write20for31 #penuary2018
I sat in on the pool chair and opened the novel. The party was going on around me. Theo really liked the music loud and no one seemed to mind. If I was anything like the people around me then maybe I would like this party too. I never fit into the world of rich kids, and I doubt I ever would. Suddenly, someone splashed water all over me and my book, soaking the pages. I slammed it shut and looked around, but my glasses were wet. I took them off, grabbed a towel, and dried them.
“Jade, watch out!” Greg yelled.
I quickly glanced up to see a volleyball coming right at my head. I moved just as the ball slammed into the chair where my head was just a split second ago. I exhaled in relief. Then, I realized that I just did that without my glasses. That could give my identity away. I looked around to see a few eyes on me.They seemed surprised that I dodged the ball, but not really concerned that I did it with my glasses off.
“Nice reflexes, sis!” Theo called from the pool.
“Sorry about that,” a girl said as she grabbed the ball and threw it back to the sand court. She ran away before I could reply.
As I finished cleaning my glasses, Greg came over and sat next to me as I put my glasses back on. “Nice reflexes indeed,” he echoed. I glanced at him. He was giving me a look of suspicion. If anyone noticed what really happened, it would have been him.
“Thanks,” I replied, trying to sound as innocent as I could.
“You’re eyesight must not be as bad as it seems.”
“I’m near-sighted, so I saw the ball coming,” I lied, but he’s expression went unchanged. “You don’t believe me?”
“Not really,” he replied. His honestly was a bit shocking.
I chuckled. “It’s not like I wear glasses for fun.”
“I seriously doubt you would wear then for the heck of it,” he replied as he stood. “So, then why do you wear them?” he asked, but I didn’t answer. He smiled, which took me by surprise. “Knowing you, it must be for something very important,” he said and began to talk away. “You should try to enjoy the party,” he added and left me alone. I wasn't sure what to do next. He definitely suspected me now, but what exactly did he think. Was he smart enough to put the very distant things together? I highly doubt he figured out that I was a spy just then. I’m sure my true identity was safe--for now.
#write20for31 #penuary2018
01/26/2018 - Penuary
Golden Years of Marriage
5 grandchildren
2 daughters
1 marriage
50 years
Silver Foxes
High school sweethearts
Golden Year
1968
She was a senior
He was a junior
She was his dream
He was hers.
#write20for31 #marriagepoetry #penuay2018
5 grandchildren
2 daughters
1 marriage
50 years
Silver Foxes
High school sweethearts
Golden Year
1968
She was a senior
He was a junior
She was his dream
He was hers.
#write20for31 #marriagepoetry #penuay2018
January 25, 2018
01/25/2018 - Penuary
The Only One I Kill [WIP: opening page]
Brisa grabbed the knife and sliced right through the sandwich. The strawberry jam oozed out from between the peanut butter. The wheat bread soaked it up. She has to eat this, Brisa thought. She sighed and walked back to the living room with the sandwich and milk. Her mother, Lora, sat in her recliner flipping through the channels. She had been doing this for a few minutes now as she complained about nothing being on.
“Those damn TV idiots wouldn’t know what a good show was even if it slapped them in the face,” Lora grumbled. Brisa chuckled at her mother, who was a retired Telenovela star.
“Here you go,” Brisa said as she placed the food on the little dinner table.
“I’m not hungry,” Lora snapped.
“You haven’t eaten all day.”
“I’m not hungry!” she yelled and tried to push the food off the table, but Brisa caught it before it could fall. Milk did spill though.
“You’re unbelievable, Mother. Just eat the god damn food. The doctor said you need to eat more so you can keep your strength.”
“Screw the doctor. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Brisa grunted. “You’ve become so shallow and childish since you got cancer.”
Lora’s angry expression quickly changed to a look of utter grief. Brisa knew the moment she had said it, she regretted it. “How dare you?” Lora whispered.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Brisa replied as her phone began to ring. Saved by the bell. “Just eat your food,” she muttered and walked away. “Hello?” she said answering the phone and listened. “Alright, I’m on my way,” she replied and hung up.
“Who died this time?” Lora asked her daughter. Brisa rolled her eyes at her mother.
“No one,” Brisa replied. “They found the man that killed the doctor last week.”
Lora smiled. Brisa was taken aback by it. “My little girl, the homicide detective. I’m proud of you.”
Brisa blushed a little. “Thanks, Mom,” she replied and started to head out. “Bye.” Just as she turned the corner to get to the garage, Brisa saw her mother wave to her as she grabbed a slice of the peanut butter and jam sandwich. Brisa grinned. She knew her mother was going to be alright, at least for now.
#write20for31 #penuary2018
Brisa grabbed the knife and sliced right through the sandwich. The strawberry jam oozed out from between the peanut butter. The wheat bread soaked it up. She has to eat this, Brisa thought. She sighed and walked back to the living room with the sandwich and milk. Her mother, Lora, sat in her recliner flipping through the channels. She had been doing this for a few minutes now as she complained about nothing being on.
“Those damn TV idiots wouldn’t know what a good show was even if it slapped them in the face,” Lora grumbled. Brisa chuckled at her mother, who was a retired Telenovela star.
“Here you go,” Brisa said as she placed the food on the little dinner table.
“I’m not hungry,” Lora snapped.
“You haven’t eaten all day.”
“I’m not hungry!” she yelled and tried to push the food off the table, but Brisa caught it before it could fall. Milk did spill though.
“You’re unbelievable, Mother. Just eat the god damn food. The doctor said you need to eat more so you can keep your strength.”
“Screw the doctor. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Brisa grunted. “You’ve become so shallow and childish since you got cancer.”
Lora’s angry expression quickly changed to a look of utter grief. Brisa knew the moment she had said it, she regretted it. “How dare you?” Lora whispered.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Brisa replied as her phone began to ring. Saved by the bell. “Just eat your food,” she muttered and walked away. “Hello?” she said answering the phone and listened. “Alright, I’m on my way,” she replied and hung up.
“Who died this time?” Lora asked her daughter. Brisa rolled her eyes at her mother.
“No one,” Brisa replied. “They found the man that killed the doctor last week.”
Lora smiled. Brisa was taken aback by it. “My little girl, the homicide detective. I’m proud of you.”
Brisa blushed a little. “Thanks, Mom,” she replied and started to head out. “Bye.” Just as she turned the corner to get to the garage, Brisa saw her mother wave to her as she grabbed a slice of the peanut butter and jam sandwich. Brisa grinned. She knew her mother was going to be alright, at least for now.
#write20for31 #penuary2018
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