Writing Sample

(It has been a while since I did this so here is a piece from something I may or may not have shown before, in this case I have A. Written too much and B. not published enough. that I may or may not have done this before. Sorry or enjoy)

The village was creaking lightly and looking behind him and he could see it easily enough and even the bare outline of the garden outpost behind it on the shore could be seen if he squinted could be seen from the lookout towers as the sun shone overhead on the waters below. It was another day where the fish seemed all too happy to be jumping into his nets and he was more than happy enough to bring another haul for the village. Although the madness that often came with the chaotic weather on land would make animals difficult to eat if one wasn’t used to the changes the madness brought, out on the water there was none making it very easy for those who could to swim out or ride out in the long buoyed canoes or small sailboats to get some fishing or trawling done depending on what they were looking for.

Watching from where he lay in the canoe with a small umbrella stuck through the oar eye so that he could nap in the shade while the net did the work. There was no need to work hard unless a giant bivalve or one of the finned hunters had come in looking for either safety or food, and he could just sit and enjoy the small things. It was indeed rough and despite everything that had gone on many of the adults complained how there could be such things as the madness that went on the land. He didn’t mind though as the waters were clear and the outpost was close enough to the coast that unless one of the plagued scourgers came then there wasn’t a need to be worried. Stay away from the land, unless one had to check on the vegetables, get there quickly make sure you get to your boat and out to sea quickly and he could have it all done before the midday meal.

Part of him wished he could go out and explore but he had seen some of the damage ever since he had to start helping with collecting the food. Everyone had to do their part to make the village go off without a hitch.

Much of the village was built on platforms framed with a hollow hardwood found on some of the smaller islands a half hour out and that was far enough of a trip that a deep boat like a ferry would be needed. Floating happily among the soft waves he could remember every time it would be brought closer to the village, the only reason why they wouldn’t be kept there was the simple fact the size of the thing could land on the bottom of the shallows. Granted, in the storms, the water level would rise and the rocking would bring about a nice little way for him to get to sleep every time he would lie down.

Being how it was built the village would move slightly with the waves as they crashed giving every a nice motion without being too difficult to handle. Laying down thinking back to one particular storm he could clearly remember when the swells got so powerful that one of the buffeting walls had been broken and had caused damage to Zenobria’s shack almost taking a wall of the home down with the wave and drenching everything in their kitchen before anything could be hidden away.

It didn’t matter if it was by wave or by someone burning a large pot of stew when someone lost their food for their year it usually meant the village would need to come together to keep their own fed.

Elders would go on about how there were some bad times in the village’s history many of which were when they all lived on land hearing about it from many of the older adults it just seemed silly to hear them talk about it when everything he knew was out on the water. He wasn’t even one of the youngest, he was helping with gathering the fish in the nets, but some hadn’t been around to see the garden walls and towers go up. Remembering that was something he had to remember with talking around his little sister who had been born just after it had been finished. It seemed the world was getting further away from what it had once been and when the elders passed on then would the world they knew be the one that was normal just the same. He couldn’t tell, and he didn’t want to think any more about the deeper things when work had to get done.

What he saw past his face mottled and translucent in the lapping waves, if he just focused enough was the net hung from the pair of buoys and nearly full with the catch.

Dropping over the side, the ocean seemed more at home than most of the times he had to walk on land. It made him happy to know all he had to do was take a deep breath and a couple of steps from most places max before he was under the surface once more.

The various creatures in the net were trying to wriggle free from the waxed twine before the slack evaporated for good and all of the delicacies would be well on their way to the thankful people of the village. Grey Scales, stripe shells, the odd shell walker from the bottom pocked the catch as the net was soon secured to the boat before both the young fisherman and the catch started the trip back home.

Orestes began using the sail over the oars when the weight of the catch pulled the boat back enough in the water that he could see the only way to have any energy left was to let the winds do the work while he just guided it.

His father had always been one who had told him to bring the small sail for the case of a heavy catch and it was something that he could remember not trying to use all because it seemed hard to set up.

What he wished to know back then was how easy it actually was as the wide post was already set with places to secure cloth, line, and winches leaving the only issue is putting it in the boat and having it balanced before the wind picked up on it.

After a few minutes of easy wind, the sail would get enough behind it where they would make up the speed difference as if he had rowed the entire way. Why some of the other fishermen still out on the waters as he scanned the horizon wouldn’t make use of it, he couldn’t tell, but oftentimes he also saw they didn’t have enough to bring in to warrant it.

From the garden fort behind the village there seemed to be something going on, he had hoped that it was just someone who had gone out to visit it. It wasn’t until the small plumes of smoke began to waft from the inside that he realized one of the mad creatures had found a way in. That did not leave him from tying up the catch or putting it on ice with those who were done early with chores.

Seeing the danger of the smoke in one of their few places for anything grown made everyone notice the scene near the shore it was one of the fire burrowers that had come up within the confines of the garden. Even from that range the unique smell of the breath of the burrower had left it as clear a calling card as could be found.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of the younger children go and pull down the white cloth from the flag pole. Anyone who had seen it would have also seen the red triangle flying from the flagpole. Soon the other fisherman would know, some of them would tie up their lines and come in, some would swim in to get some information, but while that was going on he still had to get everything into the ice chest before the creatures killed each other.

No one would be fed with hopes of people being safe, although he did know that people will eat more if there was a tragedy. Dropping a large-mouthed greyscale into a holding tank sunk in the shallows had given enough time for the others to gather their families and notify them of the scene.

“Young man, Orestes.” he heard his name.

Less than a couple of steps from the loading area was one of the village elders clearly disturbed by what he had seen as well. The older man had called to him and making his way over he could see the circles under the wise codger’s eyes giving him an air of fatigue that was hard to shake.

Philosophical Musing and Diet Dr Update

So if those of you have noticed I tend to have a fair bit of faith in my own talents and abilities and other days I sound like a second string super villain. Taking some time away from becoming the understudy to the Riddler to wax philosophically I have found out three things.

A. Advertising independently for more then three hours straight is like unknowingly taking a clone of yourself on a date. Nothing to talk about trying to figure if the both are on the same league.

B. Trying to do so without feeling like a gigantic nob takes at least ten pages of whatever I am reading or writing to take your mind off of it for a moment. Which normally as with the group youtube channel would be much easier because we could just revolve when we needed breaks.

C. I spend way too much time thinking.

Going to the update portion of the this post I got some recipes and I am working on the organization a little bit more.

National novel writing month is coming up so if the time allows I will see if I can get something out for that.

Having fun doing game videos through what I can find on Newgrounds though, and a couple of them are already out. It is nice to see how some people have taken to learning on creating whole new worlds. I love trying new things even if it is a new world and that is one reason why I love games. Plus, some of the best stories come from games. To each their own personal cup of story enjoying tea.

Video wise there is another one up on the game called chamber door a nice little point and click adventure is worth a play if anything

Thoughts in the culinary world – Bobby Flay and James Beard

Now it seems that everyone worth their knives has something to say. The world of professional cooking is sometimes akin to the world of professional wrestling when larger then life personalities clash. Everyone has their own thing to say and everyone makes mistakes. When you do something you love so much, and someone makes you feel subpar some people are going to shoot off their mouths. From Top Chef to Paula Deen everyone seems to have their hand halfway in a boiling soup pot which is sad.

Bobby Flay is the most hated person in cooking. Which I can see as he seems very abrasive, almost disrespectful of other cultures and just sometimes acts like an ass. Seeing the food he makes and listening to him talk as well I really would not want to go to his restaurants. One thing no one can take away is he knows the business side enough that he has put himself in position on cooking shows for many years. Releasing books and through all the mistakes he has made one must give credit that he has used his business to back up where his cooking fails.

It is kinda sad he will be the most well known chef of the era because one of my cooking heroes is an Oregon born man by the name of James Beard. Cooking wise his recipes were never the absolute best, but across the board there was not a man who could boast the skill set he did. On top of that you would have to search to have someone say a bad word about him he always seemed to have a love of food that was only matched by the size of the man himself. The only thing you may find if you actually looked was how nearing the end of this life he decided to take endorsement deals to open more cooking schools. Which he even said made him feel like a “gastronomic whore”.

Sometimes we forget that the measure of a person is not just by popularity. A man can be the best without being the most well known. For the most part we as a culture bring much more infamy for all of our bad before allowing some to spotlight the good. Just some thoughts

Blackberries and classes

I am taking some classes on a place called ALISON.com keeping everything else going is rough, but good for the mind. Right now working on a diploma in children’s studies.

Earlier today I had a bit of a family time picking blackberries with my mother. A couple places we know have berry bushes that are not sprayed down with chemicals. All natural, all organic and all free blackberries. Minus the pain of pulling some thorns out of various pieces of skin. Nothing worse then a splinter pain wise. With my new harvest freezing before I find something to do with them, and most likely the concoction will be on here.

Training continues on the program although nothing else has been finished and soon the grand prix will be coming to Portland. Before that though is the pro tour event just a couple days beforehand and if all goes well the group of us here should have someone going to do some recon on possible opponents.

Hitting the books – What I want to write

As I may have alluded to I want to do some publishing somewhere before my funeral.

One is something called 100 Ingredients: Home Edition. This book would be just talking about how different ingredients are handled and common applications over different recipes. This is going to be for people who are not the most comfortable in the kitchen. I was hoping to do more books in this line of thought with different sets of ingredients. That’s putting things too far ahead though. People who know how to cook will have something to gain from reading it. It has recipes in it, but it will be more focusing on the ingredient so you ( the readers ) can come up with your own recipes a lot easier.

The second is called Life, Love and Cooking. It is set up so you can read one page for every day of the year and it goes over dishes, experiences I have had in the kitchen, Working in the industry and some of the adventures I have gone on. Other cooks can laugh at some of the mistakes. People who want to get in the industry know some of the goings on. People who burn water will hopefully not and every one wins.

The typing is done on both and I have gotten some good returns from agents just not good enough to be contract worthy. Yet.

So tell me what you think of my book ideas? Like? Hate? Let me know because I would like to know.

Trying to get published

For those who never wanted to write a book you have to talk to people called literary agents. Often times they will have to go through these massive piles of people’s work just to get to yours. Even if they get to it there will be a rather a high chance that they will not like it. This does not mean your work is bad it just means that your work does not fit in to their business model. Some people will rant about not getting published saying how some of these people may be heartless, and maybe some are.

I don’t know them personally though so I won’t judge. I just have to think to myself that they are doing what they believe are the best moves for their own businesses. Can you blame someone for trying to eke out a living? I really can’t most times so I just sign it off as they may not want it now, and try again either later in the creation process or after another round of editing.

Often times all they will see of your work is two chapters tops as well as a query letter. which essentially amounts to a lottery pick if they have an opening, and winning it if you get a contract. Nothing wrong with a little luck. You will get aggravated, maybe even full fledged angry. Just try to do something where you can pour in your frustrations before coming back refreshed with the right mindset to continue moving forward. It can be worth it if you try enough.