I Want You To Know Daniel

Gosh, it’s always so sad when this happens to people.

Handihelp Blog

Daniel lived next door to me. He was 16 years old and a junior at the local high school. He was a teenager filled with ideas, dreams, aspirations and adolescent insecurities. Daniel was also shy, sensitive and caring. He loved the out – of- doors and nature. To his neighbors, he was a very special young man.

David, the neighbor on the other side of our house, had cancer which was slowly spreading. In 1999 I was on vacation in the Caribbean when I was struck by a wave which left me a quadriplegic. Daniel was only a year old when that happened. As I struggled over the years to regain my quality of life, Daniel and I became closer and closer. He began to play an important role in David’s and my lives. As Daniel grew stronger, he began doing more and more for us. The doctors were unable…

View original post 495 more words



So Desolation is done. That is to say, it is completely written. I still have to go through it a couple more times and make sure everything flows properly and the like, then it is off to critique land and then solicitation (YAY).

Today I tried to continue working on Whispers of a Distant Star, but I am not sure what is wrong with it. I think my mind wasn’t with it, but I am not sure. See Desolation nearly wrote itself, and I think it is because the main character was a guy, and whatever romance was in the book was M/M which I can relate to. Whispers is a straight relationship, so maybe that is causing me some tension there. This weekend I will do some soul searching to decide how to continue. It could also be that I just don’t have enough material for the novel. I have only plotted out 19 chapters, and I am already at chapter 8 with 10k words. Maybe I just need more storyline.

The issue I have with making the novel another M/M one is I think it will cut down the audience considerably, and I want this something that EVERYONE will give a chance, and I am just unsure how many people would read a Sci-Fi with M/M romance mixed in. Hmmmm, decisions. I guess I just need to make up my own mind and write what is in my heart.


Come to my shore weary traveler and I will give you rest.

Drawn to the banks by my evil song, test the waters, let me lure you to the depths of my domicile. I will show you the wonders of these murky depths, enthralling your senses deranging your innocence. My voice is like heaven, my resolve like hell. Forever you will stay with me, your flesh sloughing from your bones in the stagnant below.

You thought me a dream, but your heart veiled your eyes to the truth. I am but a nightmare from which you can never wake. I will hold you down, drink in your fear like a sweet wine. Your bones will break, your lungs will burn, and I will take my first sweet taste of your essence.

No more dreaming. You had convinced yourself I was something I wasn’t and now the price shall be paid in flesh.

Covet my form and I shall compromise yours, crave my flesh and I shall consume you!

This Just In

Police are combing an Ontario river on Friday after a severed head and foot were found in and near the waterway this week.

“We have a foot and a head at this point. We’ll be looking for the entire victim,” acting Inspector Randy Cowan of the Peel Regional Police told reporters Thursday in a news conference near the Credit River in Mississauga.

Cowan said the head was that of a woman and the foot had painted toenails, leading authorities to suspect it was also from a woman. However, tests would be needed to conclude they were from the same victim, he said. The foot was found Wednesday and the head on Thursday.

“Common sense tells us this is most likely related,” he said.

View original post 256 more words


Why do I have to be strong? Can’t I be weak? Can’t I be human for one fucking moment? Why can’t I cry without feeling like I am letting myself down? Don’t I get to feel what I am feeling without having to constantly worry what every fucking person is going to think about it?

Why do I have to show you a face I am not even sure I have? Hiding behind a mask for the sake of peace, sewing my mouth shut so that I am more likable. Choking on my inner truths so I am more appealing.

Why do I have to try so hard to be something I am not? Why do I have to put myself on the back burner so everyone else is happy. When do I matter? Is there such a thing as unconditional anymore?

Do we ever grow up? Do we ever grow past this? Is there ever a point in our lives when we are above the hurt and the grief of loss?

Who’s Your Fledgling Horror Author?

So this has been a really hectic day. One of those days that get you frazzled beyond repair, EARLY! But that is beside the point. At present I find myself needing to get back to my center, relaxed and in the mood for the awesome creativity that is going to happen today.

Because(!) today is the day I finish writing the first draft of Desolation.

I am not sure about my fellow writers, but I find the time between the first draft and the second draft, things change considerably. Sometimes to the point that the story no longer resembles what was written in the first draft. Is this a problem everyone faces, or is it that I am writing the story before it is completely realized?

Whatever the reason, later is better than never I guess. Desolation has gone from a typical zombie novel to something much deeper. For this I am very grateful. But I am skeptical that I am writing horror well enough. This is the first time I have written horror, and I don’t think my mind works the same way some of the masters’ do. Of course I don’t know any of the masters, but I can only assume they have black altars set up in their writing space, not a sunny, cheerful atmosphere like mine is. Long story short, I don’t feel like I can write horror, but I am giving it a try.

I will do what I always do, I am setting up a critique group for Desolation and we will go over it once the second draft is done. We will get it in ship shape (what does that even mean?) and then it will be off to publishers and agents. I am not spending a lot of time on them though, because I want to get this book out of my hands and into my reader’s hands as fast as possible, and constant rejections won’t get that done.

So here we go. Plunging into my last 3 hours of my day job, and then into my dream job to finish one hell of a tale for all of you!

(Note: If you are a friend or fan of mine on facebook and are interested in critiquing Desolation, let me know by message. Wanna know more about Desolation? Visit here.)

New Faces to an Old Menace

It is good to know that some photo’s still survive of what a vampire used to mean. Even when they started appearing beautifully, like in Anne Rice’s novels, you still knew what lurked underneath. This:

Now lets see how they romanticize zombies . . . never mind, after a cursory google search, zombie romance pictures are just as disturbing as you would expect them to be . . . for now.