The Rest of What I've Been Working On...

If you haven't read what I shared in my last post, you can go here to read it.

Here's the rest. Let me know what you think:

Something New I've Been Working On...

This is something new I've been writing, far from vampires and werewolves. No, this is something...that's been brewing in my brain for a bit. It's obviously young adult, for teenagers with a darker, cynical mind (isn't that all of them since 'Twilight?') and I want to try to push it through, once it's complete, to an agent. This is the first part of Chapter 1 for your reading pleasure:

Oh Dear

Hmmm...

I find it difficult to explain just how far I've fallen off the writing...nay, life wagon. Things have been absolutely strange for me, and my 2nd book has changed at least twenty times thus far, I believe. But I think now, I've gotten it straightened out, but who can be sure, yeah?

I know I must keep up with this blog as it is my gateway to these lovely writers that I have made friendships with and I don't wish to see those friendships dissolved.

Yes, well, on to my book. Before, I started off time and time again and nothing made sense, but as with my last book, I realized I wrote certain things then left it and came back, mixed some things around, and realized what I had already written went together perfectly with what I already had -- I merely had to mix things around to make it all fit.

Xavier has just met the most interesting Creatures that all seem to be working with him on this grand quest for the book, and his world is about to get much larger as The Immortal's Guide goes on, I do believe.

I'm off to write some more, at this rather late hour. (2:36 a.m.)

Take care my lovelies.

Sheron Parris

Associated Content and The Autumn Accident

Hello all, yes, I've recently signed up to Associated Content, and I chose one of their assignments (for freelance, or not so freelance writers) which was to write a short story in a Fall Theme. I had Four Days to write it, but needless to say, I cranked it out from the top of my head in about 3-4 hours.

You can read the short story here: The Autumn Accident: A Vampire's Mistake

I wasn't sure if it'd be published at all mind you, as the people in charge of the site actually review it and decided if it's to be published or not. I was so excited when I read the email. :) Be free to leave comments on the AC site and follow my work there as I'll be writing much more on there. I realized writing with a deadline and a theme was invigorating, as the story I fashioned out was good, so good in fact I wanted to share it with the whole world. And I have. :)

Hehe.

And another thing, Scribophile is an amazing site. I suggest you all go check it out. It really does wonders for your writing.

Sheron Parris

Scribophile

I gotta say, Sleepy Kitty, Scribophile is the most amazing site I ever had the pleasure to join. I've already critiqued a work and the mere insight it's given me is just phenomenal. Thank you so much for the site. =]

And in my personal life, things seem to be getting weirder. A close friend had a ****ing heart attack the other day, died for a few minutes, and came back to life. I'm still trying to process that. Trying to write my sequel (I've decided to start over from the beginning -- don't worry I've kept the original draft). Trying to get my life together. Just trying to live. It's rather hard when death is everywhere I turn this year. I don't understand it.

On another, cheery note, my guitarist and I are looking for more band members. We hope to start playing some shows in December so there's that. Music calms the soul -- and gives me inspiration for my writing. =]

I'm off to write, and critique some more work on Scribophile.

Happy Writing.

Sheron Parris

Writing And Not Getting Distracted

Things have recently settled down and I just want to thank everyone that commented on my blog when I was M.I.A. for a bit.

I recently started writing again. I just happened to be in the bathroom (sorry), when the thought came to me to add more to a specific scene in my sequel. I wrote as much as I could and went up to bed. (It was miserably late.) I'm pretty happy with what I came up with, it moves the story along as it should.

Hum. As for Authonomy, I've recently stopped going on the site once I learned it was only used to peddle the authors there to self-publish. As it stands, only one or two books have actually been published by HarperCollins once they reached the Editor's Desk, and the people there aren't interested in your work -- and if they are, it's usually followed by a "I backed you, so you back me." The design and purpose of the site is faulty and I don't see the pleasure in manipulating others just to get higher in "rankings" so I can get to the famed "Editor's Desk" just to struggle to stay on the Top 5, only to be glanced at by Editors and never published. The amount of "Self-Publish Your Book Here" Ads on the site should have raised some alarms from me sooner, but I ignored them. Like one person said, Authonomy is one huge Slush Pile.

And instead of wasting my time there, I've decided to write, write, write, and write some more. Again, thank all of you who commented with support during my trying time. I appreciate you all and wish you the best in your writing careers.

Take it easy you lovely people.

Sheron Parris

Another Anxiety Attack and Figuring Things Out

Yes, I've had another one last night. Need I mention that yesterday I spent all day at the college trying to register for classes, only to realize that I didn't have the proper financial aid to pay the 700 odd dollars for said classes. I was given 'till midnight to pay online but needless to say that didn't happen.

And I was getting all worked up over joining the Creative Writing club and doing this and that within the college but it wasn't meant to be, I'm sure of that. I had a minor anxiety attack that was forthcoming [I could feel it all day] and it escalated when my mother said "You had all summer and you didn't do anything." Yes, mother, I didn't do anything then, because I wasn't 100% that I wanted to go to college.

If anything, now I have enough time to gather myself, what I need...etc. in order to register for January (if I still wish to go, then). By then, I'll have my license and I'll have my head on right...I do hope.

These few months I've been blessed with, I really need as my life has been spiraling somewhere that I don't know is sane. Whatever. I haven't touched my book in DAYS (feels like weeks), so I believe I'll try to tackle that right now. (Sigh)

My Vampires have reached the second city they need to get to in order to find the book they need. Is it there? Who knows. I'm going to figure that out right now.

Take it easy, m' dears.

Sheron Parris

Bad News All Around?

My Aunt died. Like earlier today.

I can't even...I'm in pure shock.

I'm going to go see my cousin later on or in fact, tomorrow. But for now [sigh].

I can't even....

Take care. Stay safe. Stay healthy you lovely people.

Sheron Parris

Anxiety Attack, Release, New Beginning

I had a severe anxiety attack last night brought on by the male parental telling me that I "need serious fucking help," (I kid you not) and other insane things I've been keeping bottled up for so long. They couldn't last within me anymore and that was it:

• Nausea
• Insane migraine
• Pain in the mouth and throat WITH the migraine
• And crying brought on by the fact that I hated what was happening to me, and the migraine SUCKED, and the pain sucked -- which only made the pain worse and made me cry MORE. 

I thought I was going to die, but here I am, I feel freer, amazing, great, fantastic, as though I'm not "tied" down by anything more as I did before.

*I went to the doctor and he just gave me Tylenol. What the hell is that? I HATE medication and knew he wouldn't be able to single out the issue before I went. [Sigh] Why don't I listen to myself more? Would've saved me twenty bucks. 

[Deep breath]

I haven't written anything as of late because of the slew of things that have happened recently but I'm sure I'll get to my sequel tomorrow. I've had it open for days and haven't stared at it once. Kind of odd for me. But whatevs. My personal life needs a drastic re-haul. I've decided to focus on my health for the time being, because it's important, no?

Oh, and I got another rejection today guys. Woo!

Seriously, rejection is amazing. Suckish, yes, but that only means that I have more time to understand myself, my writing, where I want this series to go, and what I want to do with it before I try again. Freedom, no?

And have you guys been clued into the weird weather as of late? The storms over here, NY, in the end of August (pretty weird), and I heard there was some fire tornado in Brazil, and TWO water SPOUTS in the ocean. What the hell is going on?

I actually like this insanity. It's...refreshing. New.

Stay lovely.
I need some sleep to recharge (still feeling pretty weak).

-Sheron Parris

College, Home, and Solace

I was literally forced to go up the nearest community college and register for classes. I took the placement exam, as per usual, aced English [a-duh], I was exempt from Reading for amazing SAT scores, and I got TWO remedial Math classes. (What can I say, I hate Math.) And here I am, I don't know how many hours later wondering just what in the world I'd gotten myself into.

At any rate, I'm glad to be back home, if only for some sleep, and to wake up to head back to my old high school, get the transcript, go back to the college and register officially. (Sigh) I keep repeating to myself: I am happy, I am happy, I AM happy....

Of course it's not true but I've grown up placing my happiness on the back seat for others, I know it's wrong now because I'm all unwilling to "step out into the world," because quite frankly, I see the world as complete shit and yes, I DON'T wish to be apart of it. That said, I like the college. It's nice, and if I can get some good writing classes and theater, I don't give a shit what else I get.

Now, on the to the writing:

My true friend in this time of retardation (is that word, I think it's a word). Writing, my aid in a time of turmoil. (Heavenly sigh). Oh sweet writing. [Dances in mid-air while wielding black roses.] 

Because that's how writing makes me feel. -_-

Ahem, yes, in lieu of finally making some sense, I'll begin with this: I've reached Chapter 20 in my sequel...[holds for applause]...and now I've no idea where else to take it. A lot more must happen...it's just the working out of GETTING those things to happen. I find myself REALLY wanting to skip ahead and just write the goddamn ending already. ;) {Who's with me?}

And now, [clearing throat], I speak more on character development and plot, whereas I would if I knew what the hell I was talking about. I've a headache the size of Mount Rushmore, I feel as though I'm being pulled in 20 directions, and I can't even face my book right now (please tell me I'm not the only one).

Thus, I leave and find solace in tea, the television (damn you corporate America), and the last Harry Potter (reading for the 20th time I think. I'm at the end and it's so terribly horrible. That said I CAN'T WAIT for the first part of the ending -- the movie, I mean. Expect a full review when I go see it.)

[Waves hand to fellow lovely writers.]

Tra la la.

Sheron Parris

Haven't Blogged In Days...

Because life has gotten in the way, but I've truly reflipped, revamped, and re..did? a few chapters in my sequel and the story's moved along awesomely. I've decided not to focus on the romance between two characters, but center it on something else...namely action.

And for once I applaud the excessive action in my book -- it's helped to smooth things along easily. This is a short post, as I've a short attention span right now and feeling like doing something else.

So off I go. To read books probably. Or to write.

Sheron Parris

Entering Contests and Submitting to Literary Magazines

Ron L. Hubbard's Science Fiction/Fantasy Contest. I entered pieces of my novel. Edited it, obviously. Here's to hoping for that.
And also I've been looking for literary magazines to submit work to. I've found a few and submitted work thusly. Here's to building an anthology of my work, eh?

[Sigh] I'm exhausted and don't feel well at all. Just came home from a barbeque and my aunt who's been reading my book online, told me she liked it...etc. I'm glad. Just wish it wasn't online as everyone complains about their eyes hurting after a few minutes to 30. [Sigh] Eh.

I need some sleep.

Stay saucy you lovely writers.

Sheron Parris

My Query Letter

[Gasp - shriek - cry - cringe]

The dreaded query letter is below. But before we get to that, I feel I must explain what it took for me to get there in the first place. When I first came to the world of publishing, agents, query letters, proposals, and rejections, I was a naive little girl who'd just written a horrible first draft, hadn't edited it at all, and wanted to know what had to be done to get my book published. So I Googled. And boy did I Google. And the more I Googled, the more my anxious, naive countenance fell. Hard.
All of the apparent work and whatnot that apparently went into getting an agent was a far cry away from what I'd thought it'd be. I stepped away from the world of publishing and went back to my manuscript and decided to make it more marketable for the sake of attracting ANYONE besides family and friends. It took about a year or two before I was truly happy with what I'd uncovered beneath the horrible first draft. And then (now) I was ready to try again, this time with a smarter mind about everything, knowing what to expect. (I'd been rejected once and LOVED IT. It was so liberating. Can't explain it. But of course, that Query letter was absolutely horrid as I couldn't pinpoint the main plot of my story. I KNOW. How horrible, right?)

Now that I have pinpointed the main part of my story, I have moved on to the sequel, and I have understood more about what my series can bring to the world of writing. I've decided upon my target audience, and though I'm well aware my word count is far too much for a first time author, I'm still sending this out there. (Word count can be cut down later -- I want to see if an agent loves my story first.)

So, here is my query letter. Note that I don't have any credentials, and have just left a sentence thanking the agent and stating that I am more than happy to send a few chapters or the entire manuscript at their request.

Tell me your thoughts:

Dear Big Name Agent from Big Name Literary Agency,

When Dracula’s secrets are discovered, the Dark World shall never be the same.

Set in 18^th century London, England, THE DARK WORLD tells the story of vampires, lycans, elves, and other unearthly creatures as they fight for dominance in a world shielded from the eyes of humans. At 130,000 words, it is complete; a historical fantasy set in the vein of ROWLINGS’S HARRY POTTER and TOLKIENS’S THE LORD OF THE RINGS, that is sure to enrapture vampire enthusiasts as well as young and old adults of all kinds.

When Vampire Order member Eleanor Black is brutally murdered, Xavier Delacroix is left to answer everyone's questions -- including his own. Dracula remains as elusive as ever and only continues to quell Xavier’s questions until the night Eleanor Black reappears. She is extremely different, with a terrifying new power: one that allows her to take the form of a vampire, as well as a lycan whenever she desires. And she only wants one thing: for Dracula’s secrets to be known far and wide…along with Xavier’s undying love, of course. But he is not certain he can leave Dracula’s protection in pursuit of her newfound knowledge. Especially when he finds himself next in line to rule the Dark World. And it is here that Dracula’s secrets come to light at the expense of an untimely death, leaving Xavier to rule a World he never truly knew, to battle a creature the Dark World has never before seen, and to find the one book that can guide him to his truth.

Book 2 of an intended series, THE IMMORTAL’S GUIDE is currently in completion and continues the story of Xavier’s fight for truth and control in a world that is falling into the graces of Eleanor Black. There shall be two more books after the second to complete the series.

Thank you for you time, and if you are interested, I can send a few chapters or the whole manuscript at your request.

Sincerely,

Sheron Parris

--- 

So there, I've placed my fragile, waning soul out for all of the Blogosphere to ridicule. Give it to me straight, and don't be gentle. Please.

Don't.

3 Queries Sent Out Back to Back and Billy

Yes, it took a few hours of my time to relax and write a decent query letter, but once I summed up my book in one sentence, the true plot revealed itself and I could expand as necessary for the middle of my query. (Sigh) Wish me luck? I'm feel particularly snazzy about the queries I sent out, and I can't even think about being rejected or not. The only thing on my mind is "I have an agent, I just don't know him/her yet."

(sigh) I recently recovered a script I wrote entitled "Billy" that I'm super happy about. I wrote it sometime last year, or the year before, and it's as demented as I am, if not more. For "Billy" I took the age old "imaginary friend" we all have, and asked myself "What if "Billy" or "Bob" or what have you wasn't a friend? What if he/she were against you? Wanted your life?" Thus "Billy" was born.

It's about a teenage girl who has a girlfriend, yet also has another self, a subconscious if you will that has a mind of her own. Yes, Billy is a girl, folks. =] Everyone who's read it so far loves it, if only the skip over the girl-on-girl action -- well, if you count a girl kissing herself girl-on-girl action. Beh.

I'm absolutely exhausted. Sending out queries should be considered a job in itself, eh?

Good luck my fellow writers!
We've only but good times ahead of us!

Keep Writing.

Sheron Parris

Death and Release - Writing That Flows

So I wake up feeling awfully cheery which is highly uncommon for someone who doesn't sleep until the sun comes up, I assure you. Rest assured, this cheeriness shall be put to good use, i.e., writing my sequel. I went back, revamped a few things, allowed some of the action to make sense in the plot-line of the story, killed someone off (rule number 10 if you get bogged down -- kill someone!), and things are moving along fantastically. Wonderful what a death does, even in a story, right? Clears the air sort of, and although the loss is there, well it only makes those who remain stronger for it. Right?
Or something.
I speak of course of my own grandmother's death earlier this year. The same day of my prom, actually. Devastating, yes, I didn't really allow it to sink in until the following days of prom where I cried my eyes out until the funeral (where I only cried some more). Also liberating in a way. Don't know how yet but I guess the fact that I've managed to get through a few months without seriously breaking down is a start.
Oi, this has gotten too personal.

I guess I mean to say, that if one of your characters die, and you have experienced a death of someone close to you, use that emotion, what that conjured, in your writing. And even if you haven't, don't be scared to give someone the axe as it were. You just may get farther than if that person remained alive, hindering you from writing freely.
Something about a light load. Hm.

So, yes, writing, I'm going back to that now. Happy reading, writing...etc.

-Edit-

So the lovely LReneeS is to interview me and I'm terribly excited. I'll keep you posted about that. A friend came over, and she is one of those that I share all of my writing with -- as I'm typing away, she's right there devouring everything I write -- [dances] and we shared some words, got to see each other face to face over pizza and soda and [sigh] writing. The most exhilarating thing in the world. So she's decided to make a fan club for me and my series[1][2], which I find...extremely flattering -- I find it amazing that someone likes my work so much they wish to dedicate a club to it -- and I'm not even published (novel-wise at least). Friends, eh?

So I found this site through way of one of LRenee's  interviewed authors, Julie Musil's blog, and she apparently writes like Stephen King! Haha. Awesome. I had to try this site out so I did and I apparently write like Dan Brown! Crazy, eh? Here's the link for I Write Like, enjoy it and share with me who it is you write like. You may be surprised.

;)
Happy Writing.

Sheron Parris

Adding Blog to Other Sites

BAJ9ZF6HWJBS - Technorati claim token.

Pages and Perhaps Too Much Character Development

So I've added pages to my first and second books. They both hold vague info on the books, what they entail, and the first book gives you the prologue. Happy reading with that.

And (sigh) I've been writing insanely as of late and I think there's a bit too much action in this book for the time-being. Perhaps I have to step away from the computer for a bit and then come back to it and read it all over, all...slow and interested, like I've never written it before, or something. Hope that works.

So I've cut down on my tea (for those of you who don't know, I'm a tea addict), because I believe I need a change or something. Bleh.

So I think I'm gonna get back to that writing now. Or maybe some tea and eggs...hmm.... (strokes chin thoughtfully)

Happy Reading...and Writing you lovely people.

Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes = Love

Oh My Godddd I've found the most amazing song! It's the first song in the playlist above and plays automatically. I've heard this song like a billion times on the radio but could never bother to look up the artist[s], so I finally did and now I can't stop playing it.
It's like the most perfect song ever. Makes me all warm and fuzzy and just...[SIGH]. It's PERFECT.
Hoooome, I'm coming hooome, home is wherever I'm with you. <3

[Dies] That song is amazing.
So yeah, I have a playlist up and thus, I am going to go back to my writing now. May upload the prologue of my first book in a page on this blog, and then the  first chapter or so of the sequel in its own different page. Agree? Or no?

Leave your comments.

And remember kiddies,
Home is wherever I'm with you. <3

Charmed and Blazing Through Chapters

Just watched two episodes of Charmed today. Oh TV-themed-witchery. (sigh)

Anyway, I've written all of Chapter 15, which is miserably long, I think, and am currently writing the beginning/middle of Chapter 16. [squeals with excitement] Alexandria (the only female human in my story) is coming along greatly with characterization. I think my favorite things to write, besides all those action scenes, are the subtle romance scenes between her and Christian. It's so funny and cute to see the chemistry between these two characters, even if they don't see it themselves. They've been thrust together by the fate of...their world or something and they've no choice but to remain together because everyone else is far too busy to take care of her. It's hilarious, to me anyway.

So, I'm writing and must go back to do so.

Ta-ta.

Sheron Parris.

Writing.

I've been writing a lot of as late and have reached Chapter 15 of the sequel to The Dark World/A Change of Hands, my first Vampire novel.
So much has happened in the book and I quite like the fast pace. It's fast without being so "in your face, too much is happening and I can't get any of it." It's all action because the ease the Creatures used to face in the first book are now gone and Eleanor Black is terrorizing them, that, and personal problems are being brought to light, relations are being revealed, and just a lot is happening all around that I'm proud of. It's much darker than the first one, that's for sure.

I won't be posting any part of that book on this blog, if you want to read it you'll have to go to Authonomy and read it there.
The Link:
http://www.authonomy.com/books/20259/a-change-of-hands/read-book/#chapter

Enjoy. ;) I must go write some more.

Sheron Parris, tootles.

Untitled Story Expansion

So I did work on that Untitled story I showed you in my previous post and here is what I have so far. (I believe I may make this a full-length novel.)

Wind swept past the hollow branches of trees long forgotten in that particular part of the World. Voices of beings, ancient and grand in their silent reign over the dwellers of the Earth, whisper harshly as the skies darken and secrets threaten to be exposed to the World.

His cold eyes scanned the landscape. It was barren: the once flourishing, strong trees were now brittle, sunken. It appeared it was time.

He turned from the vast array of trees and viewed the horse that neighed nervously. The man atop the horse gripped the reigns tightly to steady his steed. "My Lord," he called. "The Duke has arrived."

The smile was thin, and it probably meant nothing, but there it was. And it would not fade. "So he has." It was a whisper. Not meant to be heard by the ears of the man atop the horse.

The dirt underneath the hooves flew like shreds of debris into the sky, and he followed their trace as they returned to Earth.

The Duke bowed low upon his entrance into the main hall and servants scurried out of the room. He walked, with loping grace to the table, pulled a chair and sat, before gesturing for the man opposite him to follow in his movements.

Once seated, the Duke wiped beads of sweat from his high forehead, his brown eyes glittering with anxiousness. The man simply observed the sweat that clung to this man’s skin; why, he perspired so much, his blouse had begun to dampen. The smile that had not left him since he had strolled back to his home, widened in its berth. The thinness, oh, the thinness remained.

“Your Grace,” he said at last, giving this man some freedom from terrible thoughts for the time being, “you look absolutely ill. What has happened?”

“It is a strange – a strange matter,” the Duke gasped. A strange matter, indeed.

He feigned a look of benign curiosity. But he already knew, of course. “What on God’s green Earth is the matter, Charles?” he asked in his voice of great concern.

The brown eyes finally found him across the long table and the Duke jumped from his seat immediately. “You!” he said, lifting a terribly shaking finger toward him. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?!”

The man did not make any sudden movements, he did not flail from the room like some scalded dog, no, he kept his seat. The higher man always kept his seat.

“One of what?” His voice should have been higher; it should have been filled with disbelief. But it remained quiet, calm. Terribly odd given the circumstances, indeed.

“You – you,” the Duke stuttered incoherently, his eyes bulging from their sockets. The man was reminded of the previous man who came to him like this…the year before…around this same time…speaking of strange…strange matters. The smile disappeared at last.

“I, what, Charles?” he asked, a bit of exasperation lined in his voice now. And it was real. He stood slowly, keeping his black eyes on the man before him who had slumped back into his chair rather quickly. “Either you spit it out or you can see yourself off my property.”

His hat clung tight to a single, strong fist as it rested against the table. Still, it shook. “Tell me…tell me what you are, Sir,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t leave – I won’t leave until I know. What I have seen – what I have witnessed—”

Danger. It flared in his eyes but the Duke had not seen this: his eyes remained glued to the wooden table top, glistening with tears now. The man would not see the tips of fangs that resided in the man’s mouth now, he would not see the hands clench tight underneath the table. No, he would not see any of this, but that did not mean it did not exist.

“What,” and he tried his damndest to keep his voice any morsel of sane for to do otherwise would be foolish, terrible, “have you witnessed, Charles?”

“Monsters,” he said immediately, his eyes not rising from the tabletop.

He was grateful for this, for if the man’s eyes rose from the wood, he would be most privy to a horrific sight, indeed. The door opened before the man could say a word and in he stepped, looking terribly handsome, as usual. He stopped short upon seeing the expression the man wore, and then his eyes drifted to the Duke who hastily wiped his tears upon seeing who it was that stood in the doorway.

The Duke stood at once, bowing painfully low, far more than was necessary. The newcomer bowed his return and turned at once to the man who had not risen from his seat at all. “David,” he said, his voice far more scolding than it should have been, perhaps, “this is the last time I will have your…wily daughter cavorting about on my property. She scared half the horses last night. Most likely with that bloody…boy she fancies. I won’t have it, are you listening, David? I won’t bloody have it anymore.”

David turned to stare at this man slowly, for he had been staring upon the Duke with an odd expression. Upon seeing this man, David stood as well, although he did not bow. “It appears, Master, that we have a problem,” he said slowly instead.

The Duke figured this a rather weird thing to say to this man, for the man’s title preceded him. Who was David to speak to this man in such a way? And what he said – it was not a proper response to the man’s words. The Duke watched as the man turned two hard gray eyes to him and he stiffened with fear. He was one of them.

“What is it?” the man asked, his voice colder, not at all as light as it was just seconds before.

“He has seen,” was all David said.

The expression the man gave him now was crushing, Charles decided with weak knees. He suddenly realized he did not want to know what these men were, he did not want to see…but what more did he have now that his wife, his lovely wife was gone…?

“Come with us,” the man said at last. He ran a strong hand through his black hair which barely touched his shoulders before turning on his heel and striding to the door.

David gestured for Charles to follow behind the man, something Charles did with tears welling in his eyes once more for he was quite sure he was to see his death the moment he left the room with these two men.

He did not. The man led him through David’s grand home with purposeful strides until they stopped at a large bookcase. It bore no books. Charles watched with confusion and welling terror as the man said a few words in spitting tongue and the bookcase split in two, revealing a long, winding flight of stone stairs. The man descended at once, David pushing Charles forward with an impatient hand.

They descended rather quickly, or perhaps they did not, time froze for Charles at least as he took his first step onto the gray stone. And then he was in a large, bloody room, filled with swords, bows and arrows, javelins, and torches. He was surprised to find himself sitting in a chair as the two suddenly stared down upon him, their irises the color of blood.

He swallowed a scream as David bared two sharp fangs in his direction, but he did find his breeches soiled with a growing, warm liquid.

“Disgusting,” the other man said. “Gunther, be sure to fetch him some new breeches when we’re done here.”

Charles blinked, not understanding who Gunther was, but David inclined his head subserviently to the man at his side and stepped away through the bloodied room, stopping at a wall. He turned to eye them, Charles seeing his distance as a new reason to feel fear.

“What is your name, sir?” the man with black hair asked, stepping to him.

He pushed himself against the chair as the man came closer, not realizing that he was not secured against anything. He fell backwards with a scream, only to land upon the hard stone floor, his side aching as it was upon this that he landed. He stared up upon the tall, handsome man with tear-filled eyes, and almost lost his mind as the man’s face was now so terribly close to his. The man opened his mouth, showing him the same fangs that David or Gunther just showed and he tried to scream only to find himself letting out a whimper.

“We won’t hurt you, Charles,” the man said although Charles did not remember giving the man his name, and he suddenly realized the man was kneeling beside him. But how? Just a moment ago he had been standing—

The man extended a hand to help him rise from the floor but Charles was not at all sure if he desired to take it. It was with an impatient noise that the man instead grabbed hold of Charles’s arms, pulling him up to stand. Once he let go, Charles sunk back to ground, this time landing on his knees.

“C’mon, man!” the man said, staring down upon Charles with impatient anger. “Fine, I suppose we shall do this on our knees.”

“D—Do what?” he barely breathed before the man had a cold hand upon his neck. His voice was lost in his throat as the man’s fingers traced his back hairline down to the collar of his damp shirt.

The gaze was steady as the man stared straight into Charles’s eyes as he did this, and Charles wondered what in the world was happening for all he felt were icy claws probing his neck. He vaguely thought of numbing before the doctor injected the needle.

“There,” the man said suddenly and he pressed a finger into the middle of Charles’s neck. Charles was suddenly aware that he felt terribly cold.

“What—What have you done to me?” he breathed, his voice shaking through chattering teeth. The temperature of the room had not changed, for all that Charles knew, but as he talked he could see his words leaving him in a stream of thick, icy air.

“You will be dead within the hour, Charles,” the man said simply, rising to stand, leaving Charles there upon the bloody floor, kneeling as though praying to some forgotten god.

The man turned to Gunther, who had been watching all of this with greedy eyes, and he said, “Return to your home, my friend. Keep up appearances.”

Gunther appeared uncomfortable at these words. “But Master, the skies have changed…,” he whispered.

“And that does not mean that you will do so overnight. We still have a few nights left to us, dare I say it,” he said coldly.

Gunther stared at him, as though not understanding what it was the man said.

“You remain for what reason, Gunther?” the man said at last, for he had turned to stare upon Charles who seemed frozen upon his knees, his eyes darkening.

“This is dangerous, Master.”

“What is dangerous is you not leaving me the moment I ordered it.”

“Master, please….”

“Go, Gunther! Take your doubts with you if you please,” he snarled.

Although trapped in his icy tomb, for that is what it felt like, Charles’s heart pounded with fear at that sound. That snarl. It was inhuman. What were they? What had the strange man done to him? He had killed him, hadn’t he said it himself? He had killed him and he would be dead within the hour….

Gunther swept from the room at last, looking terribly disconcerted, but saying no more, at least aloud, to his master.

The man he left behind, the man who had killed him, Charles thought warily, remained, although he looked greatly troubled. With his hands behind his back, his head bowed, he strolled idly from one wall of the bloody stone room to the other, and Charles realized he had the air of one waiting for something.

It wasn’t until thirty minutes later that Charles felt his heart slow greatly, and although his mind screamed at it for it to pump, for it to send the juice of life through his veins, he felt his insides slowly begin to shut down.

It was at this that the man stopped pacing and turned to stare upon him. His red eyes were glistening with deadly hunger as they bore into his black ones, and Charles realized with a fluttering jolt that the man had been waiting for him to die.

 ---

I've nothing more to say because I must go continue writing this lovely story. =] Tell me what you think so far, yeah?

I'm Sheron Parris, and believe it or not, you helped me write that.

;) 

Untitled Story, Authonomy, and The Strange

Okay so I love the feedback I got from my super short story, "The Butler." If you have yet to read it, you can read the original post here:
The Butler: A Short Story

Now, moving onto my next piece, this I actually hand-wrote April 21, of last year (2009). I don't have a title for it and it cannot even be called complete but I feel I should post this up if and in case I get a surge of ideas as how to expand on this.

So, without further ado, here is

-Untitled-

enjoy:

Wind swept past the hollow branches of trees long forgotten in that particular part of the World. Voices of beings, ancient and grand in their silent reign over the dwellers of the Earth, whisper harshly as the skies darken and secrets threaten to be exposed to the World.

His cold eyes scanned the landscape. It was barren: the once flourishing, strong trees were now brittle, sunken. It appeared it was time.

He turned from the vast array of trees and viewed the horse that neighed nervously. The man atop the horse gripped the reigns tightly to steady his steed. "My Lord," he called. "The Duke has arrived."

The smile was thin, and it probably meant nothing, but there it was. And it would not fade. "So he has." It was a whisper. Not meant to be heard by the ears of the man atop the horse.

The dirt underneath the hooves flew like shreds of debris into the sky, and he followed their trace as they returned to Earth.

The Duke bowed low upon his entrance into the main hall and servants scurried out of the room.

---

That's all I have for now. Obviously, it is, like I said, greatly incomplete and I am not a fan of how I wrote everything out above, but I have realized hand-writing things on paper does not give me the freedom to write with clear, linguistic expression like typing on the computer does. So there's that.

I've no idea what this story is about yet, but it does have an air of magic to it, I believe. Whatever this man of title knows about the "time" and the "voices of the ancient beings," has me believing this could be yet another fantasy of mine, once more set in the 17th or 18th century. I'm thinking Scotland for some strange reason but who knows. Either way I'm interested in expanding upon this as well. Let's see what happens, shall we?

In other news I've been keeping up on Authonomy concerning my book: the first of an intended series, and so far I've received some great reviews. You can read the book in its entirety here: My Book. That site is addicting and I've caught myself reading, in length, some of the amazing manuscripts on there. I recommend anyone whose interesting in writing and/or reading check it out and leave some constructive criticism for the author of the book you've read. Trust me. It does one good. 

Anyway, I may post my infamous (at least to me) short story series, The Strange on this blog for I enjoy those stories more than anything I've written thus far (outside of my Vampire Series, of course), and I believe many of you may get a kick out of it. It's gory, full of delicious blood, but these characters are not Vampires...they're led by something much more. I didn't know what I was writing at the time (again, I wrote this when I was 13/15) but it appears to me that with a little brushing up here and there on The Strange and its sequel, The Unknown, I can have a nice little short story series here set in the horror/fantasy genre.

I don't believe any of the stories I shall post on this blog that I have written shall ever be called "light," by any means of the word. I relish in the dark, confusing, deadly, and macabre. That is where I feel most at home, and that is, unfortunately, where all my characters seem to end up. Too bad for them, eh?

Thanks for reading, I'm Sheron Parris, and you, you're in for some bloody times, my friend. 

 ---

Addendum:

6 Great Novels That Were Hated In Their Time

A must read. I'll leave it at that. 

The Butler: A Short Story.

I wrote this several years ago when I was 13, I kid  you not. I thought I'd post it up to the blog because, quite frankly, this blog has been lacking greatly in the "writing" department and I feel it wrong to not...start to expand on my writing, or at least putting it up for few to read. Who knows, maybe someone may actually like it.

Now, without further ado, here is

-The Butler-

for your reading pleasure:

"Maybe moments pass," she said.

"Of course, Miss Lynda, keeps the world moving, moments do."

"Of course, Marv, but I can't shake the feeling that his death wasn't meant to be." She shivered. "This one moment will never pass, I'm afraid."

"Aye, Miss Lynda, this moment shall linger in everyone's mind for years to come. That, Miss, I'm sure of." The smile on his lips said it all. How he knocked Jacob on the head something awful, how he dragged the bastard's body into the river....

"There's just one thing that bothers me most, Marv," Lynda said, looking out towards the river where they found him.

"What ever could it be, Miss?" Marv asked, almost too innocently.

"Who could've done such a thing?"

Marv smiled again, for the answer was quite clear:

The butler did it. 

 ---

Now, while copying that from paper to keyboard, I must say my experience as a writer had me begging to change a few things here and there, to brush up on certain actions I see in my head the butler Marv doing as he observed the Misses. But I changed nothing for the sake of telling the original story: how I saw it in my head, then. Really shows how we grow.

I'm thinking of expanding on this rather short story to expand on their environment. A myriad of questions comes to mind as I reread it. Who is Miss Lynda? Did she have a hand of wealth passed down to her from her late husband? Is there a bigger reason for this murder? And why did the butler of all people commit the crime?

I see a certain charm in keeping this as it is, as the lack of information makes it rather...enticing, at least to my eyes. To add anything more would kill the air, don't you agree? At the very same, I find my writing blood boiling: I simply must KNOW more about these characters.

I think a mystery/thriller is soon on my hands...once my Vampire series is at its end, of course. ;)

I'm Sheron Parris, tell me what you think, and thank you for reading. 

---

Edit: 

If you want to read my Vampire Book (the first one), you can follow this link. Happy reading.

The Beach, Books, And Music

I died (with laughter) upon seeing this. My word. It's hilarious.

Anyway. I just came from the beach at 12 in the morning, I know. Hey, I needed some fresh air, some writing ideas.

So I've been writing the sequel to my book and it's taking it's time forming and cultivating and all of that. (Sigh) I'm awfully tired.

(Yawn) I believe I'm off to sleep or drink a gallon-full of tea.

May update this sometime later on today with more information on my writing.

(Am soon to have a blog for my band; updates on music, lyrics, song ideas, band practices, shows we play...etc. Look out for it if you want.)

-Sheron Parris 

 -------

Edit:

This is disgusting:

Am I right? Ugh.

Chapter 13 of The Immortal's Guide after a complete wipe out of my laptop several days before;

I'm up much too early for my damned good but what the hell, I haven't went to bed yet. I've been writing all day and as my laptop recieved a lovely virus causing me to get my work impossible, I've had to resort to my desktop computer and my flashdrive which, miraculously, holds my first book, and a much older version of the second which I am tweaking and updating as I see fit.

I went to a barbecue the other day and there my photographer of a cousin and model of another cousin were there. Apparently we're to have photoshoot in the City today, eh, I've no idea what's going on anymore. I don't know how I'm to get out there as I have no metro card and I don't know how to work my way through the subway (as sad as that is).

[Sigh] I'm miserably tired and I must allow this section of my book to finish up itself before I can trudge to my bed and sleep until deep into the evening.

I shall try to update this lovely blog once more as I now have the means of updating it, looking forward to your lovely posts and hearing your writing stories, whoever follows this blog. (I'm convinced no one reads this.)

-Sheron Parris

Writing and Updating

Seriously. This may be a short post as I'm writing and it's late and I need to go to sleep or something but yes:

I'm up to Chapter 16 of my second book and I'm loving it. [Sigh] It's all crazy and whatnot and I'm trying to sort out the plot now as I don't even know what it is anymore. I think between life, and life, and more life, writing has gotten oddly...strange. Or perhaps it's because this is the second book -- whatever it is, I'm fighting through it.

And apparently there's a SMURF movie coming out next year.

Two words:

HOLY SHIT!

;)

Back

After weeks more then intended, but really whose counting. School has definitely gotten in the way of me posting and even writing, but now I'm writing into the wee hours of the night only to wake up not wishing to trudge the several miles to school. (Like now, for instance. I'm incredibly late.)

Anywho, I managed to surpass a crucial point in my book that dealt with interesting shit. And I'm dying to write again but the damned prospect of school. Argh. Oh and then there's the Senior Speech that I must give on Monday, mind, I've written nothing down. I believe I'm too just go up and bare my soul as it were (doubt many could handle it) and hope for nothing. (I'm terribly out of the school mindset. Summer just get here already!)

Anyway, I must trod to school. Tootles and all that fine footwork.

M.I.A.

That is me reading my copy of Nightlight. A most lovely book which I've recently finished and loved the ending of. Oh my goodness, it's everything Twilight needed and MORE. Yes, it was hilarious, but the story really got me. Case in point: The MC [main character] grew as a character and realized "Hey I don't want a Vampire. I want a regular, geeky, teenage guy." That is realistic. And adorable.

 

So ladeeda, I'm going to Florida on Wednesday. At which time I won't be posting but I'll be keeping up with my Tweets via my celly cell, cell. And I'll update the moment I come back which'll be the 26th or 27th of April. I honestly can't wait. I have New Moan to finish up too. It drags on like Stephanie's Twilight, definitely, but it has it's scarce moments of hilarity. Here is a pic of New Moan:

 

And as far as I've gotten, I can't wait to finish it up, granted this one'll end much stupider than Nightlight as it closely follows the nuisances of Twilight, length, Vampireisms and all. Snore-fest but I'm pushing through for the sake a few chuckles.

Okay, I have to go finish up some homework, shower, and sleep. 

School.

Then Sleep and Florida.

What I'm Listening Too: Blender - The Pretty Reckless.

(My new favorite band. Check them out!) 

Two Comments...and my heart's a-swelling.

So I return home from school to two magnificent comments from fellow writers on Authonomy.com. And here's my book page:

The Dark World: A Beginning Book Page

I've posted the entire book up so you can view it through the seperate Chapters. And as the comments indicate, I'm quite certain I have to chop the book down, and not "overwrite." (What does that even mean?) So those are my new years revolutions (I know, I'm a bit late. Shush you.) and I'm-a sticking to 'em. I'm quite excited honestly to be going back to my book and to really chop it down to where it's [even more marketable], and more [reader friendly].

As my heart swells with the constructive critcizm I recieved (I'm just so happy that someone read it and LIKED it), I know what I have to do and I'm set about doing it. I'll just wait a bit to see what my fellow teacher (whom I've allowed to critize the book in an objective manner) says about the book -- which I think is the same as what I know to do with it.

On another note, I've acquired the copies of Nightlight and New Moan and I've laughed riotously over the first chapter of one of the books. Amazing. I love Parodies.

I'm signing off. Must go evaluate my book and all that writer-ness.

Sheron Parris™

Books, books, and more books!

[Giggles. And Dances. And Giggles some more.]

The books I ordered came today! Oh great joy! And I shall have my camera in a few days time so I'll update this post with pictures included.

Anyway, this post shall be sort as I have homework to do and whatnot, but I must say I cannnot tear my eyes away from the covers of these books. One is paperback, another is hardcover, BOTH should have me in stitches.

As you see, these books are parodies of Twilight -- the Twilight "Saga" -- whatever you wish to call it. They're hilarious from what I've read of the back covers. One names Bella, Heffa Lump, the other: Belle Goose. I call it genius.

I don't think I'll get a chance to write [and I've gotten the idea to give Dracula his own book; I've started writing it in a book (really odd)] tonight as I have homework to do, but I REALLY want to read 'em. [Sigh. Giggle.]

[Giggle.]

Tootles.
Oh, and tell me if you like [or dislike] my new page design. The banner was done by me [obviously] and it took all of 5 minutes.

Sheron Parris™

Slow Sunday

What I'm listening too: Firebreather - Thrice
How I Feel: Sluggish and Despondent. Oh yeah. Mentally kicking myself to do Yoga when I click "Publish Post."

I know I've neglected this blog as school consumed me as of late BUT I think the 0.01% of you that glimpse this blog shall be glad to know I've kept up my writing (of course) once school projects and papers were out of the way. [Did a Research Paper on Horror Movies and re-fell in love with Dracula (Bela Lugosi interpretation), and immediately vowed that I would do my Vampires honestly, with less superficiality, and more...grit.]
Not to say they weren't that way before, but I realize, when I was writing the first book I was so very young and only had the movies of old, and a few books that I'd picked up as my guide to vampires -- and now, well now, and many won't deny, I don't think, that my vampires are any different from what's been out there (pre-Twilight, of course). It's merely the characters and what they must go through.
If I haven't said it before, I'll say it now, my book is not set in the present, it's rather a period book. Set in the 17th or 18th century, which, I'm not entirely clear on but at the end of the day I don't believe it matters:
The quest for human perfection is as real then as it is now and that's what I think strikes with those who will read this series.
There is no hopeless romance, as the Gods know I can't stand them myself to an extent (here's to looking at you Twilight), but I'm more of an adventure, internal conflict, fall in love along the way kind of person. Not to say I won't fancy a meaningless romance here and there (not looking at you Twilight), but it just has to mean something end of the day and sad to say, not many books out there do mean anything.

Anyway, I'm super excited for the last installment of Harry Potter and I can't wait to see Part I, due out this November 19! Ahhhh. I've glimpsed an early trailer and I'm freaking out within. (I've followed that series since my mother bought it for me years ago -- I STILL read it here and there.)

And [sigh] I've nothing more to say, only that this summer I shall definitely go to task on my [first book] and work everything no matter how much it kills me. I will have a lovely query letter, synopsis, and book proposal all neat and ready to go and by betcha gee golly whiz, I will obtain an agent!

(How's that for determined, eh?)

(None of you will see the me that cries herself to sleep at night, wishing to high heavens that I had the gall to send out a query letter. But what you don't know won't hurt, right? Right?)

What I'm listening too: The Messenger - Thrice
How I feel: Better. A bit better.

Descent (Back) Into Darkness

After so many years I have realized (or remembered) my voice in my writing, my name etched into every word I pen or type, something that has been lost from me for a long time now as I swam deeper into the "consumer, conventional writing frame of mind."

Looking over some poems and short stories I did years ago when cutting myself was the norm and when depression loomed like a dark could over my head, I realized I had lost everything that made my writing back then spark, with life, with truth. The emotions may have been "dark and depressing" but they were what I was feeling, they were my truth even if it were the majority of what I wrote.

The short stories, the dreams I penned, they all rang clear with Vampires. [Sly grin to self.] The one I am most proud of is titled "The Strange" and its sequel, "The Unknown." My Gods, those are fantastic, I can't stop reading them over. Another favorite short story I wrote was titled "The Butler." Simple but effective, I think.

I look at my novel now, complete in all it's commercial glory and I wonder why it shifted when writing. Indeed, it was dark and gory when I first sat down to write it, but along the way, I thought no one would care to read it, it wouldn't be picked up by a publisher...etc. And reading other blogs and whatnot, I see that I was right. There is nothing on the web about the "niche" I have. My writing is intense, deep, lovely, sinister, dripping with blood and desire, craving, lust. My Gods I cannot believe I gave in to commercialism!

I shall continue to write my current Vampire Series and seek representation, but I vow that all books from then on shall be true to my nature:

Dark, beautiful, bloody, soul-baring, and completely me.

'Till later,

Sheron Parris™

Fantastic News!

What I'm listening to: Spongebob Squarepants and a barking Yorkie.

So I trudged my butt to school against my greater will and I'm quite glad I did, for I ran into the lovely Ms. Williams, I mentioned in previous posts, and she told me immediately that she was throwing a Literary Reading at a Lounge near NYU. She invited me to come and read some of my stuff, advised me to create some business cards and get my name out there. Floored, heated, and heart-a-racing, I somehow managed to agree, not at all knowing what in the world I would do, what I would say, what would happen; quite naturally, I silently freaked as I'm prone to do. But just the idea that an agent (or anyone) would take interest in my work is what is propelling me forward to put my foot out there.

I may have to call forth the acting skills I've gained in Drama class to do this but the good part is, I have a month to get my manuscript copywritten, print it all out like three times over, and lay everything out. I'm excited, nervous, maybe even scared. I've never been in this kind of predicament before, don't know what to expect or anything so I'm just...[sigh]...holding it together.

Wish me luck? ;)

I'll be writing my sequel and am willing to expend a chapter or a few paragraphs of my manuscript, depending on who you are and if I deem you trustworthy. Just ask if you wanna read it. =]

Sheron Parris™

Writing a Query Letter Shouldn't = Stress

Writing this letter for the pass 2 or 3 days had made me realize that I'm not happy. And if I'm not happy, why am I trying so hard? The thoughts of my book being the "next Harry Potter," surely drive me forward but then I thought, "What if it isn't? Am I basing my whole writing career on trying to impress the masses? Not everyone is going to like this book. All I need is to love it. Get an agent to love it too and a publishing house to love it as well -- find it marketable and pass it on into people's [mostly friends and family's] hands.

I thought of self-publishing but I decided I didn't want this book to be of crappy quality. I wanted it to be out there for the world to see and decide if it's worth a read, not to just be hiding in the backseat of a friend's car as they exclaim, "My friend wrote a book!" Yeah, how long would it take for that whole excitement to die down if I self-published? Not long, that's what. I'd rather go through the ropes and get an agent who will work with me through the ups and downs and get my book out there.

I've been reading blogs like crazy where agents and authors tell us how to write the perfect query letter, yet using their advice, I wasn't getting anywhere. It all seemed like stressful work and it shouldn't be. I recalled the moment when my book was done, or even, when I was still writing it. That elation. That proudness. I don't think it should go away when trying to sell the book, but that's just me, perhaps. 

I know this book is gold, 'cause to me, it is and I know I will find the agent that is willing to represent me because they love the idea I portray and they want to sell it.

All this doubt and second-guessing isn't getting me anywhere at all. I've written like 20 pitch paragraphs, all less than amazing that don't portray what the hell is going on in my book. [As there are a lot of things that do go on.] But I have pinpointed the precise plot and I've worked with that for the past few days.

Basically, I guess I'm saying, the fun shouldn't leave writing [no matter what we're writing] and it should all be taken lightly. The world won't end if you don't land an agent...tomorrow. ;) My advice to authors is to stop being so hard on yourselves and allow your passion for your craft to flourish. The agent you're querying should be able to pick up on your enthusiasm and passion for your work in the letter.

-Sheron Parris