… and so it begins!

National Novel Writing Month begins tomorrow! I will be posting updates on the writing process for my novel, Eleanor, whenever I can. Hopefully it will be once a week (instead of my weekly poetry/short story posts).


I’d love to hear from other NaNoWriMos out there — not sure if that is the correct term. In any case, I’m sticking with it ūüėČ

Feel free to share what your novel ideas are, what your story is about, and so forth. Drop any links you like (here and/or on my facebook page) so we can learn more about your project ūüôā

Good luck to all NaNoWriMos out there, and happy writing!


And Cinderella, poisoned

And Cinderella, poisoned,
in Salem dwells
a fevered hell
where the fire, stoked,
and the final knell
ends not the spell.
But the fairy tale
no longer tells
of the broken, burning shell
A charming love for her, forgotten
an end to his passionate swell
so into sorrow, she fell
All this, she foretells

© 2016

Want to read more dark fairy tales?
Read my Snow White minuscule musing, Snow White
Check out my Alice in Wonderland series

And love was stolen

And love was stolen
by a fool, by a coward
Stole her from me
But willing, she left

Tainted, and the shadow fell
A cloak, and took all forgiveness
stole her dreams
stole her happiness

But forbade her, I
never to be with him
and to humiliate
To be mine, until

The day
All donned in white
A mockery, a sin
To make them see

And in that hour
I buried within my heart
the dagger of her betrayal
to let them all see

And yet they could not
The horror
The heart
and no sorrow

Banished, disowned
and I became
a victim of my own desire
for vengeance

To the drink, to the faery
as dread stole me,
and slowly, the seed of wrath
grew and bloomed

And taken, I found the being
Loath to leave myself behind
but a creature foul, I became
and took his life, her love

Took his life
to bring her misery
one last time, for my heart
never healed and peace never found

© 2016

NaNoWriMo – what’s it all about?

National Novel Writing Month is coming up very soon. Every year for the past few years¬†I have planned¬†to enter, write, and complete a novel within one month (November). I made it so far as signing up one year ūüėČ This year is different though. Not only have I signed up, but I have also got the plot, story, and basic structure set out for my novel, Eleanor.

What is National Novel Writing Month?
NaNoWriMo is all about writing. Specifically, writing 50,000 words in 30 days. Really, it should be called International Novel Writing Month, as all people from all nations are welcome to sign up and give it a go.

That seems like a lot of work. What’s the prize?
That’s the brilliant part. If you manage to push through and make it to 50,000 words before the deadline, and you validate your entry… you win!

You win. There’s no one winner. All you have to do is write a novel, hit the¬†target, and you join the NaNoWriMo winner’s circle. There are other prizes to be won as well though.¬†Have a look-see here.

You make it sound so easy. 50,000 words in one month is no easy feat!
Yeah, I know. Look, to be honest I may not even hit the target. I’d love to, and I’m certainly going to try. I want to win, but I’m a realist (on some days), and I know that this year may not be my year. But, it’s been proven that it can be done. If other people can do it, then so can I.

And, I just want to encourage others to give it a go. Is that so bad?

Okay, sorry. Didn’t realise that. Just thought you were being all Miss I’m-so-awesome-it’s-totally-easy.
Yeah, I guess I do have an ego problem. I’ll try and work on that, thanks!

More information on NaNoWriMo (including how to enter) can be found here.

She speaks to angels

This is a work in progress.

Breaking through these hardships
though I’d never looked up from the roses
when the darkness reached the silence
and the sorrow in his eyes

I was lost
and lonely
and so cold in there
Forgotten beneath the stars
I took all of his love
And fought it through the night

Embracing all of the madness
So lost was my mind…
so lost

She speaks to angels
Burns and decays
And flies away…
From her heart
in which sombrous daemons dwell
tearing me from her

© 2016

The crossroads – in the afterlife

Stirring, and whispers
within a burning
Desire summons,
therein, so brewing
for death

The lost, lie as prey
while the lonely stray
though walking in
the light; the crimson deep
her sight
and death to befall them
so it is foretold

Enticing and delighting, yet
The mark withers
from her reach
Desire anew
for the ones who stole;
life deprived
for those who shall steal;
their lives, their fate now sealed
to decide
to crush and smother
the evil

The fallen sing

For her murder:
Promised to another
her death but a dream
from the misery in her
enslavement to come
but before the ring is even placed
to adorn her stolen hand
the blood is spilled as a torrent, and
doomed she is, for her finger is bare, and
doomed to become the creature, the Strigoaicǎ

For their murders:
To come
she will be their voice,
their fists, their swords
when they have none.

© 2016