The Yearly Round-Down! (No.19)

You read that right, it is indeed the yearly round down, or, up perhaps. A look back on a year that has been quite kind to me. It was only two years ago that I ditched resolutions. I decided instead, that I would just do stuff, rather than saying it. I started small, then got a little braver. Then, at the end of last year, I said that I would release my first book.

So this is how my year went ...

In May, I climbed three mountains, in three different Countries. All in under twenty four hours. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

Then I went on my first holiday for over a decade. Amsterdam, the beautiful. Despite its reputation, it is a gorgeous city and I long to go back there.

I joined the Kinder Users Forum and started getting to know other authors.

I started this blog and attempted to entertain people by telling them about my life. Luckily that soon changed with the drabbles and poetry and stuff.

In July, I released my first novel that was three years in the making. Maybe, Misery is my baby and the day it was released was a day I will forever be proud off.

Then I co-authored a few short stories with the excellent authors that are, Nav Logan, A.K. Michaels and Bryan Thomas.

Later, myself, Nav, A.K and Rick Haynes released a short story for charity titled Happy Halloween.

I've also got myself into the best psychical shape of my life, though I can still get better.

I also wrote several other stories, that lie on the maybe shelf.

And this year comes to a close, I have sent of my compilation of drabbles, poems and short stories to be Beta read and the first draft of The Talon Strand: Maybe, Misery II has been printed out.

Well that's most of it in a nut shell. And though it may not seem like much to some, it has been a great deal for me.

My album of the year: Son Lux - We Are Rising
My film of the year: Guardians of the Galaxy
My T.V show of the year: Game of Thrones or The Following (though Frasier is still the best).
My book of the year: Duallists by David Wailing or Little Words by Nav Logan

I know, I may have not been very specific about the events of the year, but you should all know by know how I hate to faff around. I may have still continued to make mistakes, but it has been countered with progression this year.

I also know that next year could see the release of my last book. My future remains covered in mist after the Talon Strand comes out, but I look forward to finding out.

I could have gladly gone on for ages about this year but I won't. (For a change).

So to finish us of, here is a list of people who have been a positive influence on my year, in no particular order:

Nav, Wendy, Bryan, Rick, Ava, David. W, Nicky, Eilis, the members of KUF, the members of the authors forum. Every single person who made the time and effort to contribute a drabble to my story times. Every single person who has been supportive. My Nan. Every person who left reviews for Maybe, Misery and Happy Halloween. Every single person who has read this blog.

I hope you all have a lovely festive period and I will see you in the new year, ready and waiting to dominate it.

Much Love

C.S

Attempt At Poetry Wednesdays! (No.17)

Hello all, now that editing is under way for Life Inside a Psychopathic Balloon is under way. Every drabble or poem you see from myself will new and not in the book. That way, if you get my book, there will be new stuff in there and you'll get new stuff every week here as well. Also, this will be the last attempt at poetry of the year! So at least I'll have plenty of time to write some more. Any way, I wrote this late last night. I hope you all enjoy it and have a lovely day.

The Perfect II

Earth shattering beauty confined in a notion,
Beguiling in her wisdom;
Casting a spell with her otherworldly potion,
Until I am a slave to her kingdom!

Flowers bloom around her feet,
Illuminating the sun with her stature;
Her fragrance is nothing short of sweet.
A love like this will only ever fracture.

The uncertainty of her existence frustrates,
My mind constantly collapses.
The Fragile moral compass tergiversates.
Yet the positive emotion relapses!

Though all is not as it seems,
A reality we can never summon;
The creation of an artist’s dreams,
The ever imaginary perfect woman!

Story-time with the Four Bananas + Guests. (No.23)

After a week full of the flu, we're back. I have made the announcement in a few places that I will be attempting to put together Story-time 40 with 40 drabbles from 40 different writers. I guess I love a challenge! Anyway, lets not faff around. All the love goes to my bananas as usual, the awesome D.S. Scott who once again joins us, J.P Royan and Nicky D White.

Singular Pandemic by C.S.Bailey

I am close to the end. I can feel death stalking me with my every wheezing breathe. Lying in my resting place, all wrapped up, I feel only cold. The medication didn’t help me at all; neither did the constant rain at work.

My life is nearly over, I am ready to go to my final resting place and forever be in peace from this infernal virus.
Soon, my wife comes into the room to say farewell.

“Goodbye my love.” I whisper sweetly.

She replies coldly, “Get out of bed you lazy bell end, you've only got bloody man flu.”

The Horror Hidden Deep Within by Nav Logan

It’s a terrible thing, to see that look in your loved one’s eyes. Emotions well up inside: Anger, embarrassment, sadness, horror.

You were just fooling around, trying to surprise her and make her laugh, so you thought you’d sneak up, or perhaps she was just distracted and didn’t hear your approach. 

Suddenly, she turns around and you see the abject terror in her eyes. It lasts only a moment or perhaps for a few heartbeats, but it shocks you to the core. 

Something … someone has implanted that terror in her and you are impotent to protect her from it.

Elvis Has Left the Building by Bryan Thomas

"Elvis is dead," said 8-year-old Emily.

"Elvis died years ago, sweetie," her father replied.

"Not your Elvis, 'my' Elvis."

"Oh, your chinchilla."

"You never liked him, did you, Daddy?"

"I'm not keen on pets that can shit their own body weight on an hourly basis."

Emily ran out of the room.

That afternoon family and friends were gathered around a rodent sized hole in the garden.

Pallbearers Lucy, nine, and Cressida, seven, lowered Elvis into the hole.

"Would you like to say something 'nice' about Elvis, honey?"

Dave ignored his wife's shark eyes. "Elvis... he came, he saw, he shat."

A NEW BEGINNING by Rick Haynes

The fairy smiled like a sun-kissed buttercup covered in dew drops. Her hair flowed around her body as she danced in the lowest branches of the weeping willow.

The mists of time needed to move on, to leave the snow and cold behind.

Singing softly into the gentle breeze her message of love would carry over the meadows and woods. The land would need to change and only she had the power.

She raised her arms.

“The dark days are no more. I command you all to embrace the coming of new life and new growth, for spring has come.” 

Panic by D.S. Scott

I open my eyes and I can feel something’s wrong. It’s too dark. Panic sets in when I lift my head and hear it hit something hard. Then I hear the voices and crying. I yell out for help and the voices and crying stop. I hear footsteps.

“Don’t!” someone yells.

Someone cries, “He’s alive!”

A second set of footsteps approach and I’m blinded by light. Now I’m screaming in agony.

“No …” the man above me whispers.

“But …”

“But nothing …”

I stare in horror as he raises a stake and mallet.

“He’s dead … and he’s going to stay that way.”

Where the important things go by J.P.Royan

Quietly it entered through the cat flap. In the dark it sloped to the kitchen chuckling to itself. Head swivelling side to side it opened the drawer and poked around inside. Its face split with a smile, it found its quarry. Hand snapped back into a pouch hanging from its belt. "Time to leave" it hissed. Through the cat flap to the garden. "Back again tomorrow" it said to the garden gnome.

Gregory was up first. Leaning against the counter, kettle boiling. He then opened the cutlery drawer and scratched around inside. "Where the fuck are these tea spoons going"?

Stalling by Nicky D White

Hunkered down

Hiding away

Hoping no one sees you

Hoping no one hears you

You desperately try not to make a sound

Stifling any noise that your body tries to make

You shift uncomfortably

You’re filled with tension

Desperately wanting to relax

The door opens yet again

Someone else is walking in

But someone just left

You felt relief for just a moment

Let out a heavy sigh even

Only to hold your breath once again

But little do you know

Just how much we know

The stench catches our nose

As you hide down there in the poop stall.

Silent yet deadly.

Hey guys. First off, let me apologise for missing all the scheduled programming this week. Despite, gym sessions, an improved diet and the fact that I eat fruit every day, I still managed to catch the flu. And since it's been a while, it hit me bad.

The first two days were the worst, I didn't even sleep at all. I haven't even been in work since Tuesday which is not like me at all. I'm pretty sure I am over the worst of it now and things should be back to normal next week.

Anyway, I'll keep this short. From Tuesday things should be back with some exciting things to show you. I'll see you all soon.

C.S

Story-time with the Four Bananas + Guests. (No.22)

Well after the weekends rest from all things blog, it's time we return. As well as my bananas, we are joined by D.S. Scot and first-time drabblist Wendy Gordon. My thanks go to all. Enjoy everybody ...

Writers Block by C.S. Bailey

Two years in: “I’ve written a book! It’s awesome!”

Editing: “I’ve written a book! It’s shockingly bad and I hate every word!”

Release: “I’ve written a book! And I’ve actually finished it!  The world will love it!”

After release: “I’ve written a book! I bet everybody hates it!”

Promotion: “I’ve written a book! Buy it and experience the best story you’ve ever read!”

After promotion: “I’ve written a book! I bet everyone will hate it!”

First review: “I’ve written a book! Somebody likes it!”

After being crushed by a mixture of emotions: “I’ve written a book! Let’s write a sequel!”

The Incredible Shrinking Farm by Nav Logan

Standing on the clifftop, I survey the storm damage. My fence is now dangling over the edge of the cliff. A large tract of land has eroded during the winter, and a new fence will be needed before the cattle can graze.

I remember helping my grandfather to repair the fencing. Of course, the field was much bigger then. It didn’t just appear bigger like many a thing from childhood. It really was bigger. The property maps confirm it.

Soon the whole farm will disappear beneath the waves. There will be nothing left for my own grandchildren to farm.

School Homework by Bryan Thomas

"I ain't done nothing for my homework, Miss Fairhurst," said Michael.

"Really? Well done, that's a first."

"Say what? Miss."

"You've just told me that you did your homework."

"No I didn't, I said I ain't done nothing."

"Michael, If you 'ain't done nothing' then you must have done something."

"Say what? Are you yanking my chain, Miss?"

"No, Michael, I'm not, so let me see your homework, right away."

"Seriously, Miss, have you been smoking some really freaky shit?"

"I ain't been smoking nothing," said Miss Fairhurst, as she winked at Michael.

"Ahh," said Michael, "I get it now."

BABY PROBLEM by Rick Haynes

The curvaceous young woman arrived at the surgery carrying a baby.

‘Baby is not feeding very well,’ she exclaimed.

After an extensive examination the doctor could find nothing wrong.

‘Is he bottle or breast fed?’ He asked.

‘Breast fed.’ she replied.

‘I had better examine you as well, so please strip to the waist.’

Although a little embarrassed she complied with his request.

The doctor felt each of her breasts and then gave each nipple a gentle tug.

‘That’s the problem. You are not producing any milk.’

‘I know. I’m the baby’s aunt but it was nice to meet you.’

Beauty by D.S. Scot

“What do you want?” the woman cried.

“To be beautiful … like you,” Sam smiled.

“Why me?” the woman asked.

“My, my, I just love your hair,” Sam said, ignoring her.

Sam stood over the girl, admiring her beauty.

“Don’t pull at the ropes, dear. It’ll make your wrists raw,” Sam said, smiling.

“Why are you doing this?” she whimpered.

“I already told you … chemo makes all your hair fall out,” Sam said.

“Please mister, don’t do this,” the girl whispered.

“I’m a miss!” Sam yelled, staring at his reflection in the scalpel.

“Now hold still. I just love your hair …”

Park Lust by Wendy Gordon

Park time again, will she be there? Yes, I see her! A vision of loveliness, her perfect long legs entice me, her eyes dazzle me, she seems to shine like a star.

As I pass, I know in her world I don't exist. Her scent overwhelms me, with my heart pounding; my park lust takes over and before I now it, I've mounted her. 

This feels so right yet I know this is wrong. I hear a loud scream! "Leave her alone you animal!" 

It's on with my lead, my walk is over and I'm in the dog house again.

The Weekly Round-Down. (No.18)

Back again already, Fridays come around too fast. This week has been a relatively good week to be fair. I started seeing a personal trainer, found some gems in a book shop and made my own book cover from scratch for the first time ever.

Well it's kind of true. A guy at work is a personal trainer, so we've been going the gym together. It's safe to say that I'm progressing nicely and for the most part, my diet has somewhat improved as well.

Though I am not the sort of person to be found in a charity shop, I found myself in one looking for jigsaws ... I found a 1000 piece Taj Mahal, (didn't even google that spelling). Across the road I stumbled across a quaint little book shop. It was lovely inside and full to the brim of books, a braver version of myself would have asked them to stock Maybe, Misery. I found some poetry books from Tennyson, Wordsworth and Browning. The Tennyson was even inscribed from the year 1903! How crazy is that? And all for the cheap price of 80 pence!

Which brings me to my cover. Soon, I will be releasing my collection of drabbles, poetry and short stories. A lot of which I have put on here, but there'll be some new ones too. So I'm brushing up on my poetry. I know what you're thinking. But after reading Nav's poems and the fact that I reckon I have written at least two good ones, it'll be worth the effort. Plus, I reckon my attempts have been along the right lines and just need a substantial polish. Any way, after a few people having a go at the cover, I had a go myself from scratch and came up with this. It'll pretty much look like this any way ...

My Nan spent £40 ($62.69) on Christmas cards! Think of the tree's Nan! Such a ridiculous amount of money to spend. After days of nagging at her, she's agreed not to do it next year. I mean, my Nan's retired and living off her pension. £40 could be a months shop and on cards that people chuck away the day after! Last year, I gave my mother a card and she didn't want it because it didn't say mother on the front! Does she need to be reminded? If it said mother on the front, would that mean I didn't have to write anything on the inside? Because I am her only child after all! Pure stupidity ... it's safe to say, she isn't getting one this year. Maybe she'll send me a game request from the latest Christmas game. 

The Daily Mail ... A UK newspaper, has published an article about a young lad committing suicide. The article was a complete shambles, almost implying it was due to his new found love for 'hardcore' music. It was completely biased and disgraceful. Even his parents noticed a change in his behaviour, yet failed to act. I originally went into more detail, but such a sad event does not need publicising. The fact that a paper would print such a shocking article, going as far as to blame a band, does. 

In other news - Beating Hearts has been scrapped. First of all, I was told I was going in the wrong direction. I was under the impression we were writing a tense thriller, well at least that's what I signed on for. But apparently it was suddenly supposed to be a fast and racy action flick - wait, wasn't that Maybe, Misery? Surely I wouldn't sign on to write the same thing twice? Then I was told by the co-author that THEY would have to decide what THEY wanted to do with the story. More than a week later, I am informed that they wanted to scrap it as they haven't the time ... this is of course after three months of writing with no pressure. Well thank you for wasting my time, which coincidently is up there with ignorance and a lack of etiquette on the list of things that annoy me. Though I'm hardly annoyed as I can concentrate on The Talon Strand, Life in a Psychopathic Balloon and Between Dimensions. Maybe even Nova and Indigo Watch. Saying this, I have learnt that outside of my bananas, I will be more cautious about working with other authors.   

Despite these few niggles, it really has been a good week. I again had KFC in bed and I've got to tell you that isn't getting old any time soon. I finished watching True Detectives and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I'd highly recommend giving it a watch. 

To top it all off, Nav Logan and a good woman I know have agreed to Beta read my compilation of drabbles and such which is great news. I have around 105, I'm planning to have 120 and eliminate the weakest 20. 

Also something strange, Happy Halloween has continued to sell on Amazon. Strange because Halloween has passed but equally delightful as it means its readability extends past its subject matter.   

Anyway here's your top 15 ... have a great week everybody.

(Lwp)

1. (3) One Month Off – Bloc Party

2. (2) Rebuild – Son Lux

3. (1) Shadows – Lindsey Stirling

4. (6) Inside the Fire - Disturbed

5. (n/a) Kill Everyone – Hollywood Undead 

6. (4) Maybe, Misery – Quiet Drive

7. (10) Ex-Creations – Fall Of Troy  

8. (n/a) Survival – Eminem 

9. (8) Blood – In This Moment

10. (n/a) Shiver – Coldplay 

11. (5) Hushabye - KoRn

12. (7) Stars Align – Lindsey Stirling

13. (12) End of an Empire – Celldweller

14. (n/a) Walking on the moon – Sting & The Police

15. (13) Beauty School – Deftones  

Actual Poetry Thursdays! (No.5)

This week we are joined once again by author Nicky White. You can check her out on her website here: www.nickydwhite.com

Demons

Walking through a dense fog
Created by my own demons
I shudder as they stare
Can they see what is inside?
I try to keep it hidden
Protected from the world
Not allowing anyone in
Yet now it is completely controlling me.
A pretty smile on face
A twinkle in my eye
This façade for the world to see
Do they know I’m dying inside?
Is the pain starting to bleed through
Seeping out from within
Poisoning the words that escapes my lips
Dulling the luster in my hazel eyes.
It slowly consumes me
The high that comes from the pain
The pain that comes from the venom
That races through my veins
Living to kill me.
Don’t get to close
It’s safer that way
Better for you to not be tainted
By the poison that is encompassing my soul.
You can’t save me
No one can
Not any more
Not from this…

Attempt At Poetry Wednesdays! (No.16)

It would appear I kind of enjoy writing poetry, though I'm awful at it. A fondness has started to develop. This weeks poem is dedicated to author Nicky White and her wonderful Americanisms.

Americana

Driving in deep.
Grabbing the melons.
Squeezing them hard,
Picking the best to keep.

Picking the strawberries,
Biting them through.
Checking their texture,
Before shipping them off in Ferries.

Peeling the bananas,
Choking them down.
Biting the tip,
Sending them to the Bahamas.

Nibbling the cherry’s,
As they pop in my mouth.
Juices are flowing,
As I enjoy the berry’s.

My job at Tropicana,
The best I've ever had.
I'm living the dream.
This ... my Americana.

Story-time with the Four Bananas + Guests. (No.21)

So, how awesome was last week? It was pretty damn good if you ask me :p Anyway, lets get back to normal with your weekly drabbles. I still have quite a few left over from other authors so there should be guests for the next few weeks. This weeks lovely guest is Kristina Canady, so make sure you show her some love. As always my thanks go to my bananas. Grab that hot beverage you've become used to and enjoy ...

Shopping Smarts by C.S.Bailey

“Excuse me. Can you tell me where the milk is please?”
“It’s in the fridge.”
“Where would the fridge be?”
“You’re stood next to it.”
“So I am. It’s been one of those days.”
“I can tell. You look like a wreck.”
“Do you enjoy pointing out the obvious?”
“Have a guess.”

I’ve never liked the customers at my local supermarket; they’re ignorant and brain dead. Walking home with my shopping I feel this force collide with my body. As I use all my strength to lift up my head, the woman from the store shouts. “You’ve been run over!”

The Diary of a Disgruntled Dwarf by Nav Logan

Me and the lads were doing all right for ourselves, making a tidy profit from our mining business until she came along and messed it all up.

Sure, it was nice to have a woman around, but honestly, we’d have been better off without the hassle.

One day, we arrived home and there she was, like an extra at a zombie convention.

Of course, we couldn’t call in the Blue Meanies. They’d soon cop on to our smuggling enterprise.

Then, this smarmy mammy’s boy waltzes along and wakes her up with a kiss. Prince Charming, my ass! What a chancer!

His Punishment by Bryan Thomas

Eight boys stood behind, and to both sides of Andrew. He knew that trying to run away would be futile.

Josh, the cock of the school, rolled his sleeves up and fixed Andrew with a menacing glare.
Andrew knew three things were certain: It would be quick. It would be harsh. The pain would be excruciating.

Behind Josh, around one hundred and fifty primary school pupils stood in silent anticipation.
Andrew was ten-years-old but he would have to take his punishment like a man, and anyway, as far as he was aware nobody had ever died from a Chinese burn.

THE VOTE by Rick Haynes

The termites made a great presentation.

The caterpillars produced a magnificent one. Capturing the moment from cocoon to butterfly was video magic.

The spider commercial had been greatly condemned, as one of their presenters had bitten a camera-cricket.

The Beetles, with backing vocals from the bees, provided the entertainment.

What a buzz!

All was now set. The committee were to announce the next hosts of the Insect Olympic Games.

‘The winner of the next games is, the Ants.’

They were ecstatic.

‘That’s four in a row. Why them?’

‘Simple survival.’ said the sun beetle.

‘If we win, they eat us.’

Portrait of a broken heart by Kristina Canady

Slinking past the foreboding door, I venture to the pool house to meet my secret lover.

Pain and longing surface once more for a distant husband's affections that care little for holding a wife's attention.
Slipping in, breath catching, eyes skip over the expectant length waiting in anticipation.
Palming up the familiar with urgent hands, I lustfully dip the tip, gliding it over the overworked surface, heat building within.
Time slips into the starless night sky.
A nameless force rides me hard as liquid drips from my mad fingertips.
Stepping back, the portrait of a crestfallen woman gazes back.