Willow

The author reading I went to this semester was actually held on campus and was reading done by Julia Hoban for her book Willow. I can't say I enjoyed the book all that much, or even the authors outtake on books for that matter. I liked how the book said that books can help you form relationships with people but I didn't like how the author put down young adult literature when she just wrote a young adult book. I kind of made me feel that she was putting down young adult books and saying that people should only read the classics. I dont disagree with the face that people should read the classics, but why can't they read a bit of both? If young adult lit. is such trash why would you write a book about it. It seemed very odd to me.

Facebook

http://www.facebook.com/RRReilly

One Story

I wanted to write about One Story since its a writers magazine. What I mean by that is that if you are a writer and you are submitting your work, you should probably throw one One Story's way. I say this because from what I learned about them in one of my creative writing classes last year and they seemed helpful. What I mean by that is when you submit something to one story the help you even once you publish your story in their magazine. They get you in contact with editors and publishers so you can get your name out there. For a lot of people thats a big bonus asside from just being published. They really seem to be trying to help new writers get on their feet since its not a easy task in this industry. I think its a great thing to do since you cant get your name out enough. The story has to be between 5000-8000 words. They publish only, yes, one story a month. For a year I think the cost is 21.00 dollars so its rather cheap if you are interested in buying a subscription.

Stephen King On Writing

Last semester for one of my first intro to creative writing classes we had a book call, Stephen King On Creative Writing. And no I couldn't come up with a better title for my blog post. Its pretty straightforward in the title that its Stephen King talking about his creative writing process, his failures and successes leading up to his success, and what he believes it takes to be a creative writer. I had gotten about halfway though the book before the semester started and then heard our teacher tell us we didn't need to read that book and we wouldn't be using it this semester. I didn't really mind that but I decided to finish the book and since it had caught my interest. The ending was about how he had a car hit him and what he went through after that, which truly was interesting to read, the be main parts of the book to me were him dealing with trying to get his name out in the world and what he did to start his creative process.

I did take the advice of having one spot that I know I wont be distracted from anything else in the world. Even if that means working on my computer as usual and just turning my Internet off. Also a key point he brings up, which I agree with, is that you have to read in order to write. I can't say I am a good writer, and wouldn't dare claim I am a great writer, but anything that has come out of my head is because of all the reading I have done. I don't copy someones work and try and mimic them word for word. Rather, after reading something that you feel was great its like exercising. In sports if you don't exercise you aren't going to get that far. I feel that when you read something great it really inspires you to above your own level. Sometimes this fails but sometimes you get something great out of it. King says he reads usually around 80 books a year. That number seemed absurd to me before this semester. After this semester though, I actually think I might end up around there. The problem though is that most of the books I read are about 600-1100 page long books so it takes longer then a 200-400 page book obviously. Also something I do that he said he does is I love to listen to music as I write. I sometimes use music to help dictate the mood in the story or help me reach that type of mind set. Other times I just use it as background noise to keep the rest of the world out of my head with its small distractions and seducing words of procrastination.

His practices in writing might not be for everyone, and on certain things I don't see myself agreeing on, but it does help to get the perspective of someone who is a successful author and continues to write even today.

http://www.stephenking.com/index.html
http://thewwaitingroom.wordpress.com/2011/06/22/reading-material-including-a-little-known-harry-potter-short-story/

Caviar

I cant say that the plot twists in the story were all that surprising. As soon as they started talking about a doctor helping them with their children issues the story pretty much unfolded. I didn't predict that he would flay that fish at the end then precede to gutting it, but besides that it was easy to see that he would cheat on Mary with Wendy and that the doctor would be involved with Wendy. Also the fact that he beat the doctor up and was arrested seemed predictable as well. I enjoyed it, not saying that I didn't, just that it was somewhat easy to predict. I guess I feel bad for Mary since she had a cheating husband and a friend, someone that gave her a child, who cheated with her husband. My main question is she going to blame this on the child or if she will be able to move past that and love the child none the less.

Date Night 2nd draft

Ross Reilly

Date Night

I idled there staring at the address, looking down at the note with the same address on it, and then looking back up again to make sure I wasn’t mistaken. My little trance was broken when a buzzer on the top of the door went off and I saw my date come out and wave for me to come inside. Robby was his name, he stood there smiling at me with his long wavy brown hair and icy blue eyes. I grabbed the ends of my brown hair and only saw split ends and stared at it with my common place brown nothing eyes. He was wearing his black leather jacket which was opened in the front and had a similar black t-shirt under it with a red phoenix on it and worn in jeans. I frowned a bit, knowing I had only a simple blue dress on with a thick sweater. Luckily he didn’t notice and held the door open for me; still smiling like this was all a joke, as I entered in with him.

When I got inside, my nostrils were invaded with the smell that comes from whatever cleaner they use at every hospital. They had Santeria by Sublime playing on their speakers, a song and a band which was one of my guilty pleasures that I could never let my parents know about. I was happy that they had this song playing, but as I continued to listen I realized they had the uncensored version playing. I felt my stomach turn again and started staring down at my shoes, making sure I was actually standing here and not having a nightmare.

“Hey they will be ready for us in about five minutes so grab a seat with me.” Robby said.

The place had these beautiful wooden oak floors that looked like it was only polished yesterday and gave the impression that you could eat off of them, and it would be more sanitary than if you ate off a plate. The walls were a dark green with hundreds of photo’s covering them; they were all framed in the same type of oak wood that covered the floor. They had pictures of art work everywhere in these frames. People that had come into the shop had photos taken and places the owner and his family had gone too were up on the wall. Robby put his arm around my waist, which made me make a small squeal. He laughed and walked me over to the benches. I didn’t see what was funny and felt like I could cry at any moment. We sat there and he just leaned back with his hands behind his head looking at all the artwork on the walls. He seemed really concentrated on them all, as his eyes darted from one to the other, staring so intensely, I thought he was going to make them pop off their canvas and come to life. He turned to me with those strong prodding eyes as if he was waiting for me to come to life. I turned away and started staring at my feet again, wondering when I would wake up from this dream and be home in my pink room with my warm stuffed animals isolated from things like this. The only reason I said yes to this date was because Robby was practically and idol in our school an he asked me in the middle of the lunch room with everyone watching. All I could do was nod my head to say yes while everyone watched on.

He placed his hand around my neck and gave it a small rub. I felt the heat from his hands against my skin and the cold metal from his rings rub against me all at the same time. I think I stopped breathing for a few seconds and could only squeeze the hems of my dress to try and calm myself down from all of this. ‘How did I, me, get here?’ is all that kept going through my mind.

“Hey don’t worry about it, everything will be fine, you’re doing great.” He said.

I should smack him and just walk out right now. What’s the worst that can happen really? Everyone at school hates me and shuns me for the rest of high school? I didn’t smack him though; I just looked up at him like I would imagine a fawn would look at a wolf. I wondered if I did smack him if my hand would hurt after from the prickliness of his facial hair. I turned away, again, when I noticed something that sounded like a sewing machine. I started to hear moans and small screams from some of the other customers that overpowered the voice of Dave Grohl, who was singing Best of You. I started to tear up as quietly as possible, feeling as if I was waiting on death row and I could hear and see the other condemned being executed right in front of me.

I thought my heart was already beating out of my chest but then Robby pulled my head against his chest. I felt like my heart was keeping beat with the buzzing of the machines at a thousand beats a second. I remember the aroma of Head and Shoulders that came from being so close to him and the smooth feeling of his leather jacket against my cheek. I wanted to say something but it felt as if I had tried to speak I would vomit my heart out and it would lie there on those beautiful wooden floors, still beating and not realizing it wasn’t inside of me. I just stayed there until I began to give into it and let my shoulders unstiffen, my breathe slowly returned to normal, and my heart went from being on the border lines of a heart attack to the slow beats of a drum you would hear at a poetry jam.

“Alright Robby, you two are up,” someone said from the back of the room.

Everything then went back to being erratic as the adrenaline started pumping through my veins again. We got over to the man who I assumed called us over and I don’t think to this day I have seen a more intimidating man. He sat there in a sleeveless shirt that said “Stop staring” which only made me stare more. He had tattoos all along his arms of naked women and skulls, down his wrists where tribal designs, wrapping around his neck was a thorny rose that has drips of blood at the end of each thorn, and each finger had a letter that spelled ‘hate’ on his left hand and on the right hand ‘love’. I’m sure he was covered head to toe in them but I didn’t feel like I should ask this man to show me all his tattoos and just ask him not to kill me.

“Alright Robby who’s first you or her?” He asked.

“She’ll go first and then me after” Robby said.

Time froze for me as a million things raced across my mind. Is there another ‘her’ coming because he can’t mean me. If I run now I think I can at least make it to the door and scream for help. Time started again as I felt Robby lead me over to the chair and help me into it. I simply walked over and sat down as if I was merely a puppet and he was the puppeteer. I felt like the real me was floating overhead watching this girl who had a striking resemblance to me, sitting in a black leather chair.

“Alright so this is what we are going to have done for her” Robby said, “and we’ll have them both going along both her wrists.” He handed a paper over to the man and all the man did was look at it and nod.

I can’t hide this if it’s on my wrists. I can’t stuff this under my bed or cover it up every day till I die. Everyone will see this and will always see this. I don’t even know what it is! I’ll have to cut my hands off or run away from home because of this.

Robby said, “So I know you are probably a bit shaken by all of this. That’s fine, but now you have to choice what you want to do. I am only trying to show you a door that’s available to you but at the end of the day only you can open it if you want to. I always see you walking through the halls as quiet and meek as a mouse, but think I know what is under all of that. So speak, speak and decide what you want to do.”

I sat there as he held my hand as I started to shake. Or was it that I started to shake after he held my hand? Everything that happened around me was a jumble for a little while as I started hearing something inside of me. I slipped into myself and all I could hear was the distant rattling of a metal cup against metal bars, as a prisoner I locked away long ago was trying to get my attention. She was as much me as I was her but she had eyes that looked like a cats and had fiery red hair that could never be tamed. She sat there floating in her cell above a lake that could only be slightly seen in the breaking light of dusk. As she stared into me, I realized that we had changed places. Then I was looking out at myself, or what I what was formally myself. I felt my muscles tense as I looked at the dull brown hair. I felt my eyes narrow and my face scowl as I looked at the dress my mother bought me and the sweater my grandmother knitted. I felt my teeth cringe as I looked at those dead eyes and conventional face that lacked life, which lacked a soul, which lacked me!

Next thing I knew, the cage was falling apart. Rust and cracks raced across the metal and forced it to snap apart as if it was made of paper mache. My ears were filled with the sound of tons of metal colliding and battling with each other as they fell towards the lake. Thundering splashes and the screaming of metal filled everything in me as waves broke out from the calamity and disrupted the calm of the never changing lake and created waves that no ocean storm could dream of mimicking. The sun had risen to reveal all the land and everything I knew till then, no, rather everything that I was forced to know and be, had been consumed by the waves of my cataclysmic rebirth.

“Robby, I don’t think she is going to go through with it” was the first remark I remember snapping back into.

I yelled, “Don’t say what I will and won’t do! I decide that and no one else! I won’t have someone telling me how to live, what to wear, what I should value, who to avoid, or who I am! I am me finally and I won’t go back to what I was!”

I had drawn everyones’ attention at that point, and was gasping for air, for it felt like I had been holding my breath for years, as I was silently being smothered to death. I looked up to Robby and all I could do was place my hand against his face and smile.

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Date Night

So I wrote this for one of my classes. This class actually since I dont think anyone other then my classmates and teacher are looking at this blog yet. I like it since I just wrote it but im sure there are plenty of grammar mistakes or simple misspellings atm but I still want to post it. Ill repost the final copy at a later time.

Ross Reilly

Date Night

I idled there staring at the address, looking down at the note with the same address on it, and then looking back up again to make sure I wasn’t mistaken. My little trance was broken when a little buzzer on the top of the door went off and I saw my date come out and wave me to come inside. Robby was his name, he stood there smiling at me with his long wavy brown hair and icy blue eyes. I grabbed the ends of my brown hair and only saw split ends and stared at it with my common place brown nothing eyes. He was wearing his black leather jacket which was opened in the front and had a similar black t-shirt under it with a red phoenix on it and worn in jeans. I frowned a bit, knowing I had only a simple blue dress on with a thick sweater. Luckily he didn’t notice and held the door open for me, still smiling like this was all a joke, as I entered in with him.

When I got inside my nostrils were invaded with the smell that comes from whatever cleaner they use at every hospital. They had Santeria by Sublime playing on their speakers, a song and a band which was one of my guilty pleasures that I could never let my parents know about. I was happy that they had this song playing but as I continued to listen I realized they had the uncensored version playing. I felt my stomach turn again and started staring down at my shoes making sure I was actually standing here and not having a nightmare.

“Hey they will be ready for us in about five minutes so grab a seat with me.” Robby said.

The place had these beautiful wooden oak floors that looked like they were only polished yesterday and gave the impression that you could eat off of them and it would be more sanitary then if you ate off a plate. The walls were a dark green with hundreds of photo’s covering them. All framed in the same type of oak wood that covered the floor. They had pictures of art work everywhere in these frames, people that had come into the shop, and places the owner and his family had gone too. Robby put his arm around my waist which made me make a small squeal. He laughed and walked me over to the benches. I didn’t see what was funny and felt like I could cry at any moment. We sat there and he just leaned back with his hands behind his head looking at all the artwork on the walls. He seemed really concentrated on them all as his eyes darted from one to the other, staring so intensely I thought he was going to make them pop off their canvas and come to life. He turned to me with those eyes that made me feel as if souls were something hidden in the depths of our eyes and would devour you whole it you stared to long at someone’s. I turned away and starting staring at my feet again, wondering when I would wake up from this dream and be home in my pink room with my warm stuffed animals protected from these types of situations.

He placed his hand around my neck and gave it a small rub. I felt the heat from his hands against my skin and the cold metal from his rings rub against me all at the same time. I think I stopped breathing for a few seconds and could only squeeze the hems of my dress to try and calm myself down from all of this. ‘How did I, me, get here!’ is all that kept going through my mind.

“Hey don’t worry about it everything will be fine, you’re doing great.” He said.

‘I should smack him and just walk out right now’ I thought. ‘What’s the worst that can happen, everyone at school hates me and shuns me for the rest of high school?’ I didn’t smack him though; I just looked up at him like I would imagine a fawn would look at a wolf. I wondered if I did smack him if my hand would hurt after from the prickliness of his facial hair. I turned away, again, when I noticed something that sounded like a sewing machine. I started to hear moans and small screams from some of the other customers that overpowered the voice of Dave Grohl who was singing Best of You. I started to silently sob feeling as if I was waiting on death row and I could hear and see the other condemned being executed right in front of me.

I thought my heart was already beating out of my chest but then Robby pulled my head against his chest. I felt like my heart was keeping beat with the buzzing of the machines at a thousand beats a second. I remember the aroma of Head and Shoulders that came from being so close to him and the smooth feeling of his leather jacket against my cheek. I wanted to say something but it felt as if I had tried to speak I would vomit my heart out and it would lie there on those beautiful wooden floors still beating and not realizing it wasn’t inside of me still. I just stayed there until I began to give into it and let my shoulders unstiffen, my breathe slowly return to normal, and my heart go from being on the border lines of a heart attack too the slow beats of a drum you would hear at a poetry jam.

“Alright Robby, you two are up.” Someone said from the back of the room.

Everything in went back to being erratic as the adrenaline started pumping through my veins again. We got over to the man who I assume called us over and I don’t think to this day I have seen a more intimidating man. He sat there in a sleeveless shirt that said “Stop staring” which only made me stare more. He had tattoo’s all along his arms of naked women and skulls, down his wrists where tribal designs, wrapping around his neck was a thorny rose that has drips of blood at the end of each thorn, and each finger had a letter that spelled ‘hate’ on his left hand and on the right hand ‘love’. I’m sure he was covered head to toe in them but I didn’t feel like I should ask this man to show me all his tattoos and just ask him not to kill me.

“Alright Robby who’s first you or her?” He asked.

“She’ll go first and then me after” Robby said.

Time froze for me as a million things raced across my mind. ‘He said ‘her’, I know he said her. Is there another ‘her’ coming because he can’t mean me’ were a few of the thoughts that initially came across my mind. After that it simply consisted of things along the line of ‘if I run now I think I can at least make it to the door and scream for help’. Time started again as I felt Robby lead me over to the chair and help me into it. I simply walked over and sat down as if I was merely a puppet and he was the puppeteer. I felt like the real me was floating over head watching this girl who looked a lot like me lying in a black leather chair.

“Alright so this is what we are going to have done for her” Robby said, “and well have them both going along both her wrists.” He handed a paper over to the man and all the man did was look at it and nod.

I thought, ‘I can’t hide this if it’s on my wrists. I can’t stuff it under my bed or cover it up everyday till I die. Everyone will see this and will always see this. I don’t even know what it is! I’ll have to cut my hands off or run away from home because of this’.

Robby said, “So I know you are probably a bit shaken by all of this. That’s fine, but now you have to choice what you want to do. I am only trying to show you a door that’s available to you but at the end of the day only you can open it if you want to. I always see you walking through the halls as quiet and meek as a moose but I know what is under all of that. So speak, speak and decide what you want to do.”

I sat there as he held my hand as I started to shake. Or was it that I started to shake after he held my hand? Everything that happened around me was a jumble for a little while as I started hearing something inside of me. I slipped into myself and all I could hear was the distant rattling of a metal cup against metal bars, as a prisoner I locked away long ago was trying to get my attention. She was as much me as I was her but she had eyes that looked like a raptors and had fiery red hair that could never be tamed. She stared into me and I realized that we had changed places, that I was the one behind those bars floating above a lake that’s depths could never be measured and that could only be slightly seen in the breaking light of dusk. Then I was looking out at myself, or what I what was formally myself. I felt my muscles tense as I looked at the dull brown hair. I felt my eyes narrow and my face scowl as I looked at the dress my mother bought me and the sweater my grandmother knitted. I felt teeth cringe as I looked at those dead eyes and conventional face that lacked life, which lacked a soul, which lacked me!

Next thing I knew the cage was falling apart. Rust and cracks raced across the metal and forced it to snap apart as if it was made of paper mache. My ears were filled with the sound of tons of metal colliding with each other as they fell towards the lake. Thundering splashes and the screaming of metal filled everything in me as waves broke out from the calamity and disrupted the calm of never changing lake and created waves that no ocean storm could dream of mimicking. The sun had risen to reveal all the land and everything I knew till then, no, rather everything that I was forced to know and be, had been consumed by the waves of my cataclysmic rebirth.

“Robby I don’t think she is going to go through with it” was the first I remember snapping back into.

I yelled, “Don’t say what I will and won’t do! I decide that and no one else! I won’t have someone telling me how to live, what to wear, what I should value, who to avoid, or who I am! I am me finally and I won’t go back to what I was!”

I had drawn everyones attention at that point and was gasping for air, for it felt like I had been holding my breath for years and silently being smothered to death. I looked up to Robby and all I could do was place my hand against his face and smile.

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Poem

I am asked why I sit here all alone

but do not understand the question.

Since when was I alone?

You hear only silence. This is lost to me.

For I hear the cry for glory

The steam engine pulling into the station

The harp that cuts through the meadow

You see only an empty room. I do not see this room.

For my vision is filled with the scene of a man lurking down a dark ally

The stars and planets being born after the first pop of creation

The young couple sharing their first kiss

You say I should learn to live a little. I am too busy.

For I am fighting yellow fever in the tropics

Making my way across Mordor with my companions

Lying on the beaches as the smell of sulfur, salt, and death fill my lungs

Having a soma-holiday to escape from the world

But,

If you’ve come to share these adventures with me.

I think I might just find myself in love.

Roxy

We used to worry about leaving the door open

in fear you would run out chasing the mailman.

You used to bard, which was really a high pitch yelp, whenever you saw someone outside from your window, trying to protect the house for us.

When I climbed up stairs, you would chase after me and beat me to the top every time, even when I had a head start.

When people you knew would come over,

You used to run and jump all over them at the door to show them how much you missed them.

If a crackle or crunch came from the kitchen anytime of the day,

You would bolt out there, roll over, and start begging for some.

Coming home from our walks, I would take your leash off the last fifty yards

So you could sprint the rest of the way home, flying on your little black legs.

About leaving the door open now we don’t worry

Since you won’t leave the porch even if something you want is out there.

Your yelp has grown husky and deep

And when you do it’s a strain for you as you gag and cough between barks.

When I go up the stairs, I look down and you are waiting there,

So I have to go back down and carry you up like I did when we first got you.

When people you know come over now, they look around for you

And slowly you waddle your way over to them with a slow wagging tail.

It’s a good day for you if you wake up before noon now

Even when I bring your bowl of food to you, all you want to do is lay there and sleep.

When I have time to walk you these days

I have to carry you the last fifty yards because your little black legs have lost their wings.

8 lines

"Let me ask you" I said, "How is it that we actually got here."

She said, "Well-"

She laughed a bit and ran her hands through her hair, took my hand, and turned back to me with those eyes that looked like Ice that you could fall into.

"I don't know. I guess it's my luck that got us here actually, these types of things happen to me a lot" she said.

I had to laugh as well about this, which seemed like the strangest thing to do in a situation like this all things considered. I responded to this by grabbing her hand back and slipping my fingers through hers squeezing them enough to let her know I understood and felt the same.

"God you must live an scary and exciting life then. Things like this never happen to me. I'm not sure now if I'm grateful for that or not anymore. I guess if we get out of this I'll let you know." I said.

At this point I wanted to hold her, keep her safe, keep her warm, and never let anything like this happen to her again. All I could do though was this, reach out and hold her hand. The trapped us up to our arms and we didn't know how far under the snow we were.

She asked, "Do you think they will find us?" after the second day.

"Yeah we were so close to the base of the hill how couldn't they. Don't worry it'll be fine" I said.

I was half right. They found me in time.

Old Mans War

I actually only read this book a week ago but I enjoyed it so much I thought I would write about it up here. Two of my the many lines I enjoyed are "Christ on a Popsicle stick, we have clearly just lost the battle for the goddamn universe. I look at you people and the words 'tremendously fucked' leap right out of my goddamned skull. If you're the best that the Earth has got to offer, it's time we bend over and get a tentacle right up the ass". The second is, "Most grenades aren't soaked in syrup," "Maybe they should be, we'd see a lot more selfless acts". The one of the reasons I loved this story and couldn't put it down was because it was so outrageously funny that I was laughing throughout most of it. It did have some serious moments with loved ones dying, friends giving their final words as the plummet to an immanent death, or just the emotional break down from all these things happening. But still, none of those are the main reason why I loved this book, but clearly helped influence it. I think the main reason I loved this book was the fact that it takes these 75 year old citizens and makes them young again. The thing is, to get your new body though you have to sign up for the army which about 75 percent of the enlisted will die in the next 10 years. I loved this because still, even though 3 out of every 4 people may die these people seem fine with the idea since, hell they might have died in a week or two on earth at their age. I think, actually I know that given the slim chance at avoiding the inevitable nothingness that we all must face I would definitely join this army. Death is something we all fear, but the most unnerving death is the slow one which you cannot fight against. This gives you a chance to fight and prolong your life if your combat prowess is strong enough and your will to live is there. That, and a bit of luck.

So this is just what it is I guess

Its ok to be afraid standing here in the dark, but do not fear the dark. For it has no ill intentions towards you. But rather, fear what the dark hides from you eyes. Death. If you feel its smooth but frigid hand bush against your face, don't be ashamed of the shiver it sends down your spine, for if you do not fear death holding your face in its hands like a lover, you have most likely died long ago. For who would want to leave this world on such a night as this? With the sky clear and the moon so bright, as comets cut across the sky as they did in the beginning of creation and as they will on mans last day. Enjoy this night, for you never know when the dream will end and you will be in a place where the moons borrowed light will never reach you. A place where sounds of music, where warm smiles, where christmas greeting, where "i love you"s, where "I sorry"'s, where greed, where forgiveness, where triumph, where pain, where glory, where happiness, where betrayal, where adventure, and where new beginnings never happen. Life after death might look great for some but life itself still looks great to me, so I'll keep living for as long as I can, punching, scratching, pulling, and fighting for every breathe I take until I lose my final fight.

Idk why I wrote this but I felt I had to for some reason. I'm sure when I look at it in the morning Ill find a ton of grammatical mistakes and errors but for now I'm just happy I wrote it. I don't know if i would call this "creative writing" but...its what is is haha.

This is RR's first blog

Cool.