Nov 13, 2012

A Prophecy

Triple Visual Dare #1

credit                                                         credit                                                           credit
The nomadic winds of the northern mountains sighed through the silent corridors, carrying the scent of fear to her heart.  Clutching the vibrant silks to her chest to shield its thundering beat, she clambered up the stairwell hardly daring to breathe.  There, alighted upon the topmost stair was the omen, so startling a figure Evelyn could not help but shudder in the face of its vacant stare.
"The walls will fall to sands, as your heart wilts beneath the eye." It whispered, extending pale fingers towards her, its ivory hair twisting in the rising gale.  "The Seers are haunted unto darkness."
Rising cautiously to stand beside the girls ghostly countenance Evelyn followed its gaze across the shadowed acres surrounding the mainstay to where twisted woods succumbed to the unyielding Dunes.
Anger warmed her veins.  Her will did not shy from fear, nor did her sight ever stray from its purpose; she would defy this prophecy yet and prove her strength.
if you squint, it looks like 100 words...
check out the other entries, such delightful
foreboding and mystery.
the infamous WIP,
Jaq xx

Nov 9, 2012



She brushed her fingers gently against his pallid cheek where he lay, caught in feverish sleep, knowing it was her turn to show strength. With her back to a crooked tree she appraised the peaceful fields beyond the fraying cloth of their lean-to; the region bathed in the suns golden glare as it made its cosmic dive beyond this world.  Breathing in the tender air of spring Melody savoured the serene moment.  Feeling his body tense beside her and noting his brow begin to furrow she shifted closer to rest against his form.  Slipping her hand into his she let out a low hushing sound, stroking his forehead until it relaxed back into normal sleep.

"You have nothing to fear" she whispered into the quiet twilight.

The dry grass itched at her underside as she watched the washed out cloth undulate softly beneath a cool breeze.  Drawing comfort from his warmth she tried to doze, hoping this night would hold fewer terrors than the last.

Silk - Giselle
til dusk do we wait,
Jaq xx

Nov 7, 2012

I Love It

Insecure Writers Support Group

I'm ready.

Maybe its the old NaNo fever circling around, I'm not sure.  All I know is for this past month I have been committing to some world building and story development.

I am done with dipping my toes in the literary pool, watching others make their swan dives with precision and awe.

Although my first WIP is still where it stands in the corner of my mind, I have been exploring some visual stimulants to cast a few other tales.  The main catalyst has been truly surprising.  I highly depend upon first impressions when I see a picture or photograph, my first thought is usually wrought with some line of possibility that manifests into flash.  Naively I have always neglected this during trifle browsings, relying on memory to reproduce such ideas at convenient times where it will have my full attention.

The past three days I have been jotting down these spontaneous inspos, often leading to paragraphs of 'what ifs' and so far totalling some 1293 words of sketchy brainstorming and random dialogue.  My very own NotNaNo.

Considering I am supposed to be cramming for finals in my other life I am pretty chuffed with how freely these ideas are forming when captured in the spur.

In committing, I cannot promise a timeline as I will shortly be gallivanting off to the motherland and its various cousins, but I can say that I hope you enjoyed pieces such as Wraith, the tales of Georgia and Color, or at least see the same potential I strive to build upon.

from sjp.

Nov 3, 2012


From the absence and the silence,

The blood dried quickly on my skin, its decaying darkness shattered across the cracks of my shaking hands. I knew I must wash it away, cleanse myself beneath the cold purity of water to be renewed, and drown the sinister thoughts taunting the irrational depths of my mind.

Yet still I lay, curled upon your rich textured carpet, the horrifying warmth of a crimson pool congealing against my cheek, its torrid smell suffocating my shallow breaths.

I feel as though I have been cheated, as though I should be racked with such inconsolable grief and trauma, except even my tears have abandoned me.  My body aches with strain but every time I summon the will to move, the weight is shifted and your lifeless touch brushes against mine, awakening a new sense of nausea.

My fingertips absently graze the tainted luxury surrounding us, beyond repair or salvation.  I am not sure what I'm waiting for.  I only know that if I were to look and find your eyes devoid of a soul, I may lose the last pieces of mine.

I return,
Jaq xx

Nov 1, 2012


Thanks to the lovely Rhiann at A Nest of Words.

Answer the eleven questions.
Ask eleven questions of your own.

Choose eleven worthy bloggers (with fewer than 200 followers).

1. If you were to choose a Nom de Plume, what would it be?
Would stick with Jaq, maybe with my real last name.

2. What is your favourite flower?
Frangipani, it is the embodiment of summer and exotic islands.

3. If you had to live prior to 1900, what century would you choose, and why?
I couldnt choose, I would love to be in a medieval era full of archery, but cannot resist all the Victorian age fashions and respectability and would die for a masquerade ball.

4. What is your motto?
Known for saying stress less :)

5. Lake or ocean, and why?
The ocean.  I love the panoramic sun drenched beach, leaping into the spray, and laughing in your mates car coated in salt with crazy hair as you drive along the coast.

6. Tell us three things about a favourite character you've created.
I have never fully planned it, and guess I just get to know him with each scene, but his name is Damon, he thinks he is alone yet craves companionship, can be stubborn and angry because of his strong sense of honour, and loathes the cold.

7. You're in a car and this song comes on the radio - you can't change the station fast enough.
As long as the radio is tuned to Triple J I can usually sit through it, unless its heavy metal :P

8. Which author influences you most as a writer, and in what way?
The ones that stay with me, I do not know if they influence my writing, but they certainly influence my reading... see them here.

9. When you get writer's block, doing this helps. (If you never get writer's block I'm blowing raspberries at you).
Alot of my favourite flash pieces have come from putting my head to my desk in frustration only to catch a stray thought and the inspiration flows from there.  Otherwise I am infatuated with Pinterest and music will always shape my mind.

If it is true writers block where I despise everything I write and not even blogging helps, I leave and do not come back until I know I could flash again.

10. What movie scared you (and maybe scarred you)?
Often I find the concept scarier than the movie and dont really remember the terrifying ones...

But I do remember the rubbish ones that made me laugh and cringe, like Prom Night or Paranormal Activity.  Recently I watched Cabin in the Woods which is worth it, the predictability matches the twist as two genres seem to collide (more sci-fi than horror?)

11. What's your favourite Halloween candy?
We do not really do Halloween here, but I will eat a bag of Kool Mints without fail, loved Minties as a kid, and always have a stash of Mentos around... though lately I am craving Malteasers... and MMs.

1. If you were to choose a Nom de Plume, what would it be?
2. Sun, rain or snow?
3. What country would you love to live in?
4. Favourite actor and why?
5. Risk averse or adrenaline junkie?
6. What music has captured you lately?
7. Plotter or Pantser?
8. What would you save in a house fire?
9. If you were a character on a TV show, which one would you be?
10. What did you want to be when you grew up?
11. Whats the best dessert?

I am going to open this one up, if you are dying to answer some questions then leave a link.  Better yet, if you know of an amazing blog that deserves some attention share the details, I want to expand my reading list :)

from sjp

Oct 27, 2012


I have faced many trials these past years.

I saw everything I had disappear, I watched my life split in two distorted pieces.

I had to step up and become a pillar of false courage and strength, to prevent what was left from crumbling.

There were many tears.  I was surrounded by hurt and confusion.

I remained strong.

I became angry.

It seemed like the only way to combat all the hypocrisy and judgements being cast upon me and those I loved.

It turned many away, and poisoned my spirit.

Years later the rebellion surrendered, it seemed the waters could be calmed.

But the turmoil is never far beneath the surface, and it still rises, threatening to pull me under.

They have all forgotten, yet won't let me forget.

They do not remember the comfort I provided, the burden to protect those from the truth, or the childhood I was forced to forsake.

Everyone sees but they don't know.

I just want those calm waters.

And to leave the broken pieces inside.

from sjp.

Oct 23, 2012


Visual Dare #26

The discordant footfalls of scurrying pedestrians hummed impatiently below.  Interspersed by hostile apologies as shuffling coats occasionally collided, daring jeers by pickpockets darting across the pavement, and the overbearing moans from the sidelines of faded taxis.

The flash of a copper arrested his attention from the continuous writhing of the streets.  Quiet eyes fixed to the twitching wires of a moustache, waiting as the man declared the destination he sought with an air of importance.

"O'er there 'cross the overpass two slabs t'ya left"

Grinning with pride he caught the copper in his palm, watching the man blur into the rush of bodies, searching for the next disorientated stranger to approach his signpost.

word count: 110

keep hold of your pride,
Jaq xx

Oct 12, 2012


Visual Dare #26

Emilie trod softly through the pearly frost, shivering as the chill air stung her cheeks and hoping it disguised the unease trembling within.  She maintained a vigil of her footsteps lest she lose the courage thundering in her heart, concentrating on the icy vapours of her lungs where they shifted in the breeze.  Pausing beneath the looming silhouette of an ancient oak she fought the need to run, tightly gripping her cargo in reassurance.

Although she anticipated it, Emilie could not suppress the light gasp that escaped as an erratic wind encircled her, carrying a melodious whisper of tantalising allure.  She closed her eyes, knowing her soul would swoon in the face of such radiance, and lifted the antique mirror.

A piercing scream tore through still air, the harsh sound unbearable, jarring her senses until she was forced to look upon the struggling creature.  The capricious sprite had become a contorted nightmare, glowering her venom at the betrayal.

With a strength born of fear Emilie kept hold of her burden, ignoring the tears that fell against the snow.

"I am not yours anymore"

a word counts nemesis,
Jaq xx

Oct 4, 2012


Visual Dare #25

The sky was slow to alight with the wintry dawn, as though it were unwilling to confront the devastation in the harsh reality of day.  Cramped in the warped frame of an old truck, Madison watched the sallow sun rise against the ashen expanse, sure it promised death.  Coils of melancholy wrought her insides, her sight blind amidst the onslaught of images haunting her thoughts.  She waited in stillness, terrified to move the hands pressed tightly over her ears for fear that the bellow of erupting shells would still echo across the hills.

She barely stifled a scream when rough hands pulled at her, tears overflowing as she fell into his arms.

“Don’t ever-“ she began, overcome with distress over his absence.  Searching his face she pushed out of his firm hold, seeing the grief he was fighting to hide.  “No, Channer.  No-” choking back sobs Madison fell to her knees, the dried grass prickling her legs.

“I’m so sorry” he whispered, biting his lip as she cried out her anguish.

Word count: 161

heed your omens,
Jaq xx

Oct 3, 2012



I started this earlier as I always find my insecurities have burrowed back into hiding beyond some level of bliss by the time that fateful Wednesday appears.

But I am starting to wonder if I have been... I would not say limiting but something along those lines.

I hunger desperately for prompts, for the right prompts, to fully flesh out the ideas being neglected in my mind, its hard to remember the last time I wrote flash without the intention of fulfilling a prompt or submitting a linky.

Its like having that requirement, knowing it will be viewed in the light of some goal, makes it more valid?  I can write, and feel elated by my accomplishment, that I succeeded satisfactorily.

If I just write any old thing what standard will I measure it by?  What guidelines will I follow?  (I mean not that I am all that great at adhering entirely by the rules, but its nice to know they are there...)

How will I know it is the best flash I am capable of if there is no motivation to prove my ability?

I know this sounds superficial, but its the deeper fear of how will I salvage an idea if I write it terribly the first time...

In more recent news I still cannot comprehend the generous following growing alongside, even with my lacklustre schedule, but want to thank all for their consideration of my little place, and am stubbornly determined to publish something- tomorrow!

incapable of editing,
from sjp.

Sep 26, 2012

Follow Swap

The Follow-Swap Blog Hop

Once again My Write Spot has uncovered a colourful blog hop which I have been irresistibly drawn to!  The trick is to offer up your most prized content to lure in those unsuspecting penguins ;)  To combat indecision I linked a random recent post.  Though now I would like to highlight what you have considered to be my best content:

Beyond The Hourglass Bridge

No Surprises - I wrote this piece in the adrenaline rushed glory of something last minute, a blogfest held by the gorgeous Cherie Reich was closing and I was determined to make that linky.  But my mind was scrambled, I couldnt think of anything for the prompt, especially after seeing some of the amazing entries, and I just could not settle on any photographs rolling through the internet.  Finally while watching a lecture I started writing, making up the story as I went (completely pantsing it) until 10 minutes later I had a piece of flash.

But this was for a contest, and self doubt was debilitating, I had to off load.  Only the one girl who knew of my literary escapades was not contactable, so I turned to another, guaranteed their secrecy and sacrificed a piece of anonymity in exchange for feedback.  It still makes me queasy.

It was worth it though, it gave me enough confidence to submit and ultimately through some mystery of luck become a finalist.  I was walking on air for a week.  I still think its a shocking title, but I could not get that Radiohead song out of my head...

Lost - from my Five Sentence Fiction forays, this was something written quite personally and for that its a favourite.  It was that moment looking for something when you put your head to your desk knowing defeat is near, and that one line of inspiration comes from nowhere.

Lost In the Light - (a close fourth) the first Visual Dare challenge, the rules of which I shattered abysmally, but once I began scribbling on a note pad I could not stop at just 100 words, those eyes were too compelling.  And I didnt want to stop, that was the longest piece of continuous writing I had done in a while (not to mention the most dialogue), and it had me fondly contemplating my wip.  The characters interactions were compelling, and I immensely enjoyed writing it.

pretty chuffed,
from sjp.

Sep 12, 2012


Visual Dare

The shadowing veil of the heavens above rumbled their disquiet, withholding the reprieve of daylight.  The silent avenue lay obscured by a scattered mass, the distinct cut of a heel piercing the horizon, tangled shoelaces flung across the side walk.  Hayes frowned with bitter regret as he strode through the discarded footwear radiating from the town centre, gripping his briefcase tightly to control the frustration as he was confronted with his failure.  They had refused his message.  He kept his head bowed, avoiding the stares of condemnation as they watched his departure with an air of fervent triumph.

word count: 98

hello again,
Jaq xx

Sep 9, 2012


Blank Page

He held the aged parchment, a turmoil of emotions assaulting him driven by anguish and confusion.  Its wispy texture felt too fragile between his fingertips, the link to her presence to tenuous as he came to terms with its reality.

It was blank.

The letter from his mother was blank.

That devastating swell of hope that had infected his thoughts all morning left him crushed beneath its falsity.  As the evening deepened he had been afforded a measure of privacy to confront his past in peace, to deal with what was offered as he may.  Yet without the gift of insight, he found himself beginning to truly mourn what he had never possessed, admonishing his own childish desire for some connection to the woman he had never known.

Lifting his unseeing gaze to the dimly lit room he wondered, not for the first time, what the young woman everyone had been so enchanted over would have been like.  He struggled to envisage her glowing smile full of love, but could only find memories of his father's pain when he recognised their likeness.

He wanted to leave, it was that continual pull from beyond these boundaries, the feeling that this place only caused harm, yet he remained seated holding his mothers letter, watching the few candles sputter their last call.  Footsteps below made him aware of the questions that would be waiting, but he ignored them.  He had no energy for composure, barely holding his head above the heaving pressure of regrets threatening to overwhelm, wishing for that numbness to take over.

Closing his eyes, he couldn't bring himself to discard the parchment, he did not understand its significance, only that he would not let go.

the first thoughts of my wip put to written words in years,
Jaq xx

Sep 5, 2012

Looking Back

Is it Wednesday already?

Who knew August would last so long?  Leading this double life is distracting to say the least, while the days of the real world seem to tumble by, the 2012 Blog Flash gave the illusion of being caught up in a wonderful yet arduous journey.  It started so promisingly, I got in the flow of things, pinterest was ever inspiring,

and then somehow...
it all began to slowly...
drop off.
I turned up to a marathon thinking I could do a few quick sprints, 50-100 words seemed managable, but I have never been one for limits and before I knew it I was left in the dust of all those fabulous bloggers.
I uphold the positives though, a strangely vibrant and excitingly unexpected concept crept up on me in the form of color, and I did surpass my dismal attempt at the A to Z Challenge.  Not to mention the optimistic motivation to experiment with writing style (or at least a move away from imagery and scene setting).
I cannot promise alot for September, study commitments and amazing bands have me booked, and I want to ease back into a realistic schedule after abandoning ship.
bear with me,
from sjp

Aug 17, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

The fractured auburn light flooded the deserted site, illuminating the late afternoon fog as it rolled in from the nearby coastline.  Dust danced amongst the aging monuments of granite and limestone where they stood to bear the names of the once living, while they too slowly crumbled.

As the heavenly solar orb lavished the last of its light it soon fell below the cliffs edge into the murky depths of the horizon, leaving the land to the mercy of the chill northern winds.

A young woman burst forth as though from the gathering haze, static fiercely erupting through the air disrupting the quiet emptiness as she landed nimbly and continued her graceful stride in the same movement.

Treading carefully across the tended soil she felt that frustrating ache rise in her thoughts, the need to feel the damp clods of dirt beneath her feet, the silk of her aged rose nightgown where it clung to her slender legs, to smell the fresh salt air mingle with the sour scent of bodies journeying to the afterlife, or even to weep at her loss of such things.

So she bowed her head and closed her mind to the sorrows of her existence, and instead turned to a decrepit crypt by the cliffs edge.  The detailed angel that had once guarded its hosts had long since surrendered to the onslaught of elements.  And other destructive forces she seethed, noting the grieving head laying shattered by its side.

Taking a deep breath she exhaled a string of words, humming them softly as she pushed her hands out before her, gently edging through the thick mantle of the tomb.  Falling unsteadily into the stale darkness a timid thought grew as she wondered whether she would even be able to fear.

Waiting in the suffocating closeness she decided she could.

for the sleepless,
Jaq xx

Aug 16, 2012


Blog Flash 2012
...what is a different world,
for I have so many...

The tumultuous song of the heaving waterfall surrounded her, pulsating through the ground like an earthly drum, vibrating against her entire being as she collapsed upon damp soil, gasping for air to fill her lungs.  Pushing sodden hair from her eyes she blinked uncertainly around the clouded glade, her heart racing in fear at its unfamiliarity.

“Mykael?  Mykael!”  Eyes wide she scanned the impenetrable wood and rippling waters, expecting to see him appearing through the mist.  She felt the rising panic at realising she was alone, the cold understanding scattering her thoughts.  Run.  Leaping to her feet a searing pain erupted in her leg and she quickly tumbled, twisted branches entangling her fall.

Closing her eyes she pulled her knees in tight against her chest, unaware of the shivers that beset her drenched form, or the tears that warmed her cheeks. 


Daniel fought through the hostile undergrowth, second guessing whether he had actually heard anything.  Although the deafening torrent of a waterfall brought doubt he was unwilling to abandon the possibility without being certain.  Feeling the ground drop away he splashed into a shrouded dell, the cold water biting as he breathed heavily, unsure of a direction. 

Wading through the churning waters he caught sight of someone lying amidst a copse of bushes, hurrying to lift their slight frame from the tangled clutch of brittle limbs.   As he carried her beneath the starlit night he faltered, pale skin shone bare, and a sense of disrespect swept over him bringing with it a deep blush; he would have overt his eyes if not for the translucent wings leading from her back.

Holding her close he began the trek back, ignoring the mayhem and confusion tormenting his thoughts, listening to the thunderous din fade behind them until only his footsteps filled the air.

another surfaces,
Jaq xx

Aug 15, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

Endless mystery will always surround the lure of the written word, the magnetism of crafted tales as they weave enchanting ideas throughout ones imagination.  I cannot say for certain what draws us in, the captivating charm that tantalises instinctual curiosity to the point of bursting under the sway of emotional duress.  The sensation of following a journey of such tangible characters; and missing them as though your kin moved to another continent.

What makes you laugh in infectious happiness as you gossip with friends about pure ridiculous nothingness.  Or exhale with deep satisfaction and awe when leaving the cinema.  What drives the intense need to immerse ourselves in stories?

word count: 109
a love of adventure,
Jaq xx

Aug 14, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

The unyielding humidity clung to his skin, sweat trailing through the layered dust.  Leaning in the cool shade of an abandoned doorstep he puffed absentmindedly into a rough flute found discarded in the litter of the midday markets.  Taunting the peaceful air with an uneven melody he was startled by harsh cries, lethal paws reaching up to bat at the offending instrument.  Allowing a lopsided grin to escape he stroked the dishevelled creature, imitating the proud purring.  Eyeing the bold feline he began a cheerful tune, like the other beggars played to earn their bronze, watching it’s tail flickering lazily along.

word count: 101

children of the night,
Jaq xx

Aug 13, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

Your voice tears through me, shattering the strained silence.  My shaking hands plunge into the cool water at your feet, again and again, anything to dispel the face staring back.  We tremble in unison, your anger lashing out as I recoil in fear and dispair.

"I'm sorry!" I wail in desperation, but you are already walking away, leaving me to curl into the damp forest floor.

My relentless sobs follow you from the clearing, until I am left to sleep alone with the whisperings of nightmares.

word count: 86

Jaq xx

Aug 12, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

The contented hum of the gathering resonated throughout the cool vineyard, interspersed by the sound of platters being passed to eager hands, and often accompanied by smiles of sincerity and creases of laughter.  Several jubilant parents toasted with raucous laughter, pointing after their wild offspring roaming erratically through the wavering foliage.  Young women striving to show their maturity could not help but gaze distractedly at the handsome stranger being fervently urged to assume the acoustic guitar by his side.  Feigning a modest reluctance he acquiesced, inspiring a carefree waltz as chairs were left forgotten.  White cotton dresses hung in the breeze as grandparents swayed with the angelic young.

word count: 108

Jaq xx

Aug 11, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

“Morgana awaits.” She purred, making no effort to disguise the desire glowing from dark ardent eyes.  He nodded his appreciation, taking a moment to watch the elegant black dress tighten across her hips as she sashayed back to her desk.

Anticipation and a strange sense of restlessness tingled beneath his skin, immediately forgotten as he stepped through large varnished doors, drinking in the luxury of the private dining hall.

A stark contrast to the simple grace of the antechamber, coated in creams and serene dusk light falling through vaulted windows, this room had an aura of opulence and mystery.  Reaching out tentative fingertips to graze the heavy silk drapes, he practically sighed in pleasure.

“Your taste excels.” He murmured, noticing her impassive gaze appraising him slowly.  Hastily approaching to accept the delicate hand she extended he pressed it tenderly to his lips, noticing her gown matched the deep plum of the d├ęcor and smiling wryly at its way of melting into the shadows surrounding the main table.

“Your glass,” a voice like velvet prompted.

Tugging at his cuff links uneasily he moved to the centre of the room.  Raising the daunting chalice he stared warily at the heady liquid, nausea overwhelming him as crystal feelers ensnared his shaking hands.

“Now drink”.

word count: 211

sleep tight,
Jaq xx

Aug 10, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

Up there is a key.
We are strung from the precipice,
to await the despondent wave,
an unnerving weight in hand.
Touch the copper carving,
weaving demons unto
the restless shadows.
Turn to the light,
fumble at the gate,
your victory is not yet here.

word count: 45

unlock your ambition,
Jaq xx

Aug 9, 2012

A Journey

Blog Flash 2012

"Remember, it's a favour to Mother" she simpered, painted lips pouting to hide a mischievous grin.

Struggling to withhold my obvious disdain I scooped a handful of fading foliage from the train tracks we were following, relishing the sharp crunch as I closed my fist around them.  I watched her skip ahead, catching the delight at her own ingenious as it spread across her face.  Scattering the fractured ruins of autumn to the wind I contemplated the growing dusk, seriously considering abandoning her in the night.  Though returning home would be unthinkable.

The rich earthy aroma of the damp soil filled the air, this time of year always had been pleasant.  The road from Wickering to Palbury was notorious for its tempting detours, could I not just start afresh?  Learn a trade, find some land, seek adventure?

I shook my head clear of such alluring illusions, it was those unruly ambitions that had thrown me into this ridiculous journey accompanying my darling sister to the precious Madame's College for the Courteous.  She was only too willing to be groomed into an obedient and submissive lady, desperate to please a handsome gentleman.

"Hurry up!  Don't you know how terribly un-lady-like it is to dawdle?"

Surfacing from my musings I begged my ears to become impervious to her whining torments, and, swallowing my aching resignation, hurried to catch up.

word count: 226
apologies for annihilating the word limit!

family ties,
Jaq xx

Aug 8, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

credit: myself

Time does not exist here.
Where you lay upon the cool grass, lush bristles itching at your skin.
The sky is boundless, shifting clouds whispering across its wake.
Air is exhaled through grazing trees, swaying hypnotically before its tender lungs.
And the world is silent but for the soothing rhythms that fill your soul.

word count: 54

Jaq xx

Aug 7, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

credit: myself

The setting sun cast its fading warmth onto the fresh breeze as it breathed through the harbour, streamers of deep amber saturating the horizon where it burned its final kiss.  She watched as their toes gently swirled in the smooth water, smiling at the ripples echoing across the surface.  Together they listened to the calls of seabirds, the creaking footfalls over the jetty, the peace.  Nervousness pulled at her as she fought the urge to look at him through her curtain of sun bleached hair, focusing on the tender heat from his arm as it lay across her shoulders.

word count: 99

Ocean (2012) - John Butler

living for that moment
Jaq xx

Aug 6, 2012

A Liebster Blog

Same love, different face.
Thank you to Andrew Toynbee for giving me
the other side of Liebster.

“The Liebster Blog Award is given to up and coming bloggers who have less than 200 followers. The Meaning: Liebster is German and means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing and welcome."
The Rules:
1.   If you are tagged/nominated, you have to post 11 facts about yourself.
2.   Then answer 11 questions and generate 11 new questions for the people you tag.
3.   Tag 11 more Bloggers.
4.   The person you tag must have less than 200 followers.

The Facts:
1.  I am currently twenty years old.

2.  I have the strongest passion for Australian music and have seen most of my favourite bands six or seven times.

3.  Love the Scottish accent.

4.  My younger sister is my disagreeable opposite, though I would do anything for her.

5.  I change house every week, usually living out of a suitcase.

6.  Love to cycle.

7.  My first car is my baby, I named her Nebraska Jones after a song, my friends call her a death trap, and almost every part has malfunctioned/ broken at some point.  (I still love her)

8.  I am a bit of a committment-a-phobe and specialise in indecision.

9.  I live for the sun, craving those 30 degree days and going to the beach.  I can never wear enough layers for winter.

10.  Favourite movie is Hot Fuzz, I prefer action over chick flicks.

11.  I have wanted to be an author since I was four years old, writing stories about the Easter bunny and a pirate captain named Stef.

The Questions:
1. Has any book made you go ‘wow’ as you’ve completed it?
  Most do.  Especially the Bartimaeus trilogy by Johnathon Stroud which has always stayed with me.

2. From where do you draw inspiration for your stories?
  Distracted daydreams during classes or long drives, photographs that spark the stirrings of an idea, and especially music.

3. Do you listen to music when you write, or do you prefer silence?
  I have taken to always listening to music, usually songs recently added that have caught my avid attention.  They just keep the imagination flow going, constantly shifting your writing atmosphere.

4. How has blogging changed your writing or your outlook towards it?
  Honestly I didn't think it would, it was just going to be somewhere to record bits, I can barely remember the beginning.  And then I discovered flash fiction.  To say my outlook has changed would be an understatement, most of my days are spent pondering my next flash.

5. What is your favorite food?
  Icecream for sure.  And mash potato.

6. What finally prompted you to attempt your first novel?
  Having spare time really.  I started a story, and lost it, literally.  Mentally worked on another, and discarded it.  Finally I committed to writing the kind I love to read, and wrote pages of it.  I still love to read those, I love my characters undeniably and try for the courage to sincerely develop it.

7. Dogs or cats – and why?
  Dogs forever, I love looking into their eyes and feeling that companionship, running with them in the park and feeling their excitement, and they're so fluffffyyyy.

8. Naughty books – all the details or leave the story at the bedroom door?
  With applied taste, its interesting how many synonyms are employed to skirt the detail.

9. What is your current WIP about?
  Ummmm... it's my characters and their glorious conflict, its about freedom and betrayal and faith and archery and deserts and castles and a little bit of magic I suppose.

10. Has a movie brought you to tears for any reason?
  Not one I can remember... though the show Deadwood brought on many, its so delightfully sad.

11. Do you prefer to write at home or elsewhere?
  I prefer to hash something out at home if I'm going to do it properly, but there are a fair number of ingenious ideas cluttering my mobile and iPod from when I'm on the go.

For tags and questions check out the next Liebster Awards,
Jaq xx

The Booker Award

Blog Flash 2012

The Booker Award,
thanks to the dreamy Sania Heba

The rules:
* This award is for book bloggers only.  To receive this award the blog must be at least 50% about books (reading or writing is okay).
* Along with receiving this award, you must share your top five favorite books you have ever read.
* You must give this award to 5-10 other lucky book blogs you adore.

Top 5 Books: 
1.  The Farseer Trilogy         by Robin Hobb
2.  Everything                        by Tamora Pierce
3.  The Bartimaeus Trilogy   by Jonathan Stroud
4.  Hood (King Raven)          by Stephen R. Lawhead
5.  Wolf Of The Plains           by Conn Iggulden

It is most unbecoming to choose one book from an entire series, it compares to harbouring a favourite amongst your children, and I always desire trilogies and series beyond a stand alone novel.  These are more in chronological order rather than ranked according to adoration.

The Blogs:
Lillie Mcferrin Writes
Kelly Exter
Anonymous Legacy
Bullish Ink

to love the written word,
Jaq xx

Aug 5, 2012


Blog Flash 2012

The silence grows uneasily before they are able to fully accept it.  Although inevitable it snatches the breath from their lungs as they struggle to comprehend his absence, they choke on their grief where it wells in unseeing eyes, anguished tears flood the room.  They follow the ritual of communal consolation, allowing their fellows that brief instant of insight into their true heartache.

I smile small comfort, watching from a distance, wondering when that tidal wave of sorrow will break upon me so I may begin mourning.

But I don't feel it.

It lies far out of reach, trapped within that glass bottle on the verge of shattering.

word count: 108
my lucky number...

with respect,
hoping you find peace,
Jaq xx

Aug 4, 2012

A Creature I Don't Know

Blog Flash 2012

Credit: Myself

I keep losing myself under the demanding broiling emotions of others; their pain and grief, ecstasy and love. Usually I am able to retreat back into my own, following the tunnel to familiar thoughts, shaking free the residue of worry and empathy. But what of the day I don't realise how far their tides of life have drawn me in, how will I know to return to normalcy.

Will I remember myself.

Each time is like a splinter embedding itself within, a constant itch I can never find. And they grow.

Which of those frenzied thoughts are my own?

The other selves are blooming from the darkness.  They look alike, like me, but different.  And I am afraid. 

I don’t want to lose myself in their chaos.

word count: 127
though it could have gone so much furthur...

down the rabbit hole,
Jaq xx

Aug 3, 2012



It was unimaginable, like a blessed dream full of vibrancy and joy.  She could not take it all in, merely followed it in awe as it flowed endlessly above her, such an open expanse of sky.  Blue he had called it.  She watched the light clouds swim across the heavens, curling spools of pure white born anew after releasing their burdens upon the earth.

Everything seemed so energetic, and as she stood beneath the suns searing caress she hoped she would always be able to see the sky, her life had been grey for so long.

"Clarissa," his voice was grim, exposing the disquiet and foreboding hidden by his unreadable features.  "the Guides are coming".

word count: 115

a colourful concept,
Jaq xx

Aug 2, 2012

The Hunt

Blog Flash 2012
Day 2: A Furry Friend

The primal howling of the night creatures hung in the thin cool air.  He stood frozen, instinctual terror claiming all senses.  Crouching low as he gripped the pitiful blade, willing his eyes to see through the darkness and praying the elder souls would not allow him to fall to the hunting of beasts.

Rapid breaths echoed through the eerie silhouettes of the forest, the moonlight without mercy as it lingered behind strengthening storm clouds.  His heart beat with an incoherent rhythm, spreading the mounting fear throughout his body as he strained to hear beyond the crushing silence of the night.

word count: 100

as darkness falls,
Jaq xx

Aug 1, 2012


Blog Flash 2012
Day 1: Thinking

Insecure Writers Support Group

Overthink (def) [verb] ~ to spend more time thinking about something than is necessary or productive...

What lurks behind your eyes as you lie awake at night? What innovative conjurations twist just beyond your grasp? What romantic or adventurous dreamings make you lust for deep sleep just to recapture that feeling?

And what unsightly doubts linger as you strive for words worth experiencing? Those debilhitating condescending inklings that are your undoing...

The Insecure Writers Support Group is an unknowing step towards acknowledging ones mind can be your strongest enemy when writing, and to finding ways of overcoming the obstacles you think are there.

But how do we prevent every other emotional revolution from inflicting self doubt upon hard worked words?  Where does the line between writing and life blur when it comes down to negative thoughts...

And how do you find clarity among the static thoughts that clamour from all sides, to seize that line of inspiration that pulls you to salvation.

Take a breath.  Listen.

This is how I write.

a compulsive overthinker,
from sjp

Jul 24, 2012

From the Ashes

Visual Dare #14

"I need to clear my head" Georgia whispered, closing her eyes against the grief that was a constant tide within. Sinking to the dust covered floorboards she pressed her fingertips to her forehead, willing that strained fragile calm to hold against the tainted memories buried beneath the ruin.

Hearing his movement through the crumbling debris she quickly held up the revolver, though he refused to acknowledge the aggressive barrier.  The concern that pooled in his brown eyes was gut wrenching, and she felt the gun become heavy as her arm wavered, his closeness weighing against her resolve.

Glancing down she stared vacantly at the decay strewn across the room, biting her lip in dismay as fresh water stains marked the grime.  Turning aside she watched his shadow kneel in the stilted light, felt the warmth of his hand as it moved up her wet cheek.

“It’s just the rain” she muttered hoarsely, quickly standing to distance herself from his sympathy.  Closing her mind to the disturbing thoughts he had forced her to confront she took the lighter from her still damp jacket.  Feigning a detached indifference she kicked the fuel canister lingering patiently by the lopsided doorway, the iridescent liquid breaking the silence as it sloshed across the rotting wood.

Together they waited as it was ignited, the erupting flames crawling hungrily through the room until sheer heat divided them.  She afforded him a momentary look of remorse, his features already hidden by the black smoke unfurling.

Kill to Feel - Part One
A Reckoning - Part Two
Burn - Part Four

a vicious caress,
Jaq xx

Jul 12, 2012

A Reckoning

Five Sentence Fiction

Shivering from the bitter chill she pushed the dirty blonde hair from her face and pressed against the grainy plaster of the nearest building.  Breathing the heavy air deeply she receded into the tempest, focusing on the indomitable rainfall as it collided against every surface, hurtling from the heavens to shatter on the fractured concrete until a mounting torrent forged its escape along the road.  Georgia lingered beneath the evolving tributaries, sheer rainwater spiralling in rebellion as it cascaded down the degenerating constructions, a revolution of ice against the insurmountable ire smouldering in her heart.

Her gaze intently sought silhouettes beyond the obscuring veil of the storm while she edged along the sloping laneway, oblivious to the tumbling currents surging amidst her ankles or the violent shivers assailing her, a tinge of indigo creeping into her lips.

The faint scent of peppermint oil jolted her senses, the unmistakable fragrance rendering her breathless, gripping the stolen revolver firmly she battled for composure as the haunting figure emerged from a shadowed doorway, already envisioning their blood joining the deluge when retribution was served.

Kill to Feel - Part One
From the Ashes - Part Three
Burn - Part Four

drown your vengeance,
Jaq xx

Boy - Emma Louise
Dance Bear - Snakadaktal
I'm Into You - Chet Faker
Runaway - Mr Little Jeans
33 - Loon Lake

Jul 7, 2012

Kill to Feel

Visual Dare #12
Parked Outside

The grey storm clouds hovered uncertainly over the crooked terracotta streets, drowning the lively colours of the town in sleet and rain.  Georgia waited in the cramped space of the old car, impatience itching at her skin as she tapped irritably on the faded steering wheel, her porous leather boots blending with the interior detailing as they wobbled lazily on the dashboard.  Relieving the numbness in her backside she righted herself from the deep slouch and opened the door, the rusted vehicle shuddering from the impacting gale against the sudden obstruction, and welcomed the cold needles of the downpour.
Word Count 99

I could not dispel the scenes of car chases and shadowy murders from my mind.  I may not be able to restrain myself from extending this tale...

A Reckoning - Part Two
From the Ashes - Part Three
Burn - Part Four

To be fearless,
Jaq xx

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