Catch My Products

Catch My Products
Click on the image to visit Catch My Products.

My humorous thoughts about life.

"My Humorous Thoughts About Life" Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor- Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor -Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor
Showing posts with label writer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer. Show all posts

Saturday, July 5, 2014

#8 Weekend Writing Warriors Blog Hop - Get's Musical

I'm glad to be a part of the Weekend Writing Warriors.

Weekend Writing Warriors / #8 Sunday / 07/06/14
www.wewriwa.com


A weekly festival of writers sharing excerpts from their work.  
Many different genres; something for everybody. 

     Here is a passage from my unpublished young adult manuscript called BEING BENITO CARLEFFA. I've included a short description below the passage to give background information if wanted. 

¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡
     “Here’s the deal, kid.” Carsa leaned close, brushed the handle of the strap down my jawbone, and used it to move my face so that I met his eyes and could almost taste his sour breath. The cold plastic grip dug into my cheek while its leather tail gently danced against my ribcage in a cruel tease. Once again, Carsa’s pupils widened with a three-second crazed expression then dwindled back to normal size as if drugs had returned him from his psychotic trip. 
    “You will not leave this room unscathed,” Carsa continued, “however a little cooperation could help.” He cracked the air beside me. Every muscle in my body tightened as a shiver shot down my spine. “Did your dad say two or three,” he grinned while stroking his torture device, “or was it five or six? Just can’t remember.” 
¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡

My teenage character had been kidnapped earlier in the day by employees of a mob boss father who he didn't know existed. The scene takes place in a dark study after Ben broke his father's Waterford lamp and used a glass shard as a weapon against Dad while cussing him out. Not that Ben's a bad kid, he's actually quite good, but he just learned that this scum bag killed his mom, and you can't blame him for being just a little ticked. Of course his father never does the dirty work. Why should he when he's got Carsa to wear the mud?

Compliments are great, but what I'm really looking for is the constructive criticism to take the passage to a new level. 

Thanks!
Joyce


Sorry I almost missed Musical Monday Moves Me. I'm vacationing in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Here's a quick musical addition to go with my writing.






Come join Music Monday and share your songs with us. Rules are simple. Leave ONLY the ACTUAL LINK POST here and grab the code below and place it at your blog entry. You can grab this code at LadyJava’s Lounge Please note these links are STRICTLY for Music Monday participants only. All others will be deleted without prejudice.




PS: Because of spamming purposes, the linky will be closed on Thursday of each week at midnight, Malaysian Time. Thank you!


Friday, June 17, 2011

Meet Knob

Jeannie Campbell is hosting a blog hop and contest about getting to know our characters. So please meet the main character of my Work in Progress. Then you may buzz over to her site and meet other fictional people. How To Connect With Your MC


Knob's formal name is William Donald Donellson, but he received the nick name of Knob after Slater announced that his shaved hair made his head look like a door knob. Knob is a respectable name for an amazing, tough soldier. Unfortunately as the butt of the fifth grade, Wimpy Will has never felt like a tough anything.

Thanks for the interview. I'll answer the questions as best I can because I always do.

Question 1: What is your greatest fear? 

Gee, that's a tough one because I'm scared of everything. My brother died from falling off a bicycle and bleeding to death. I know, it sounds weird, but he had a disease called hemophilia and the doctors couldn't save him. Although I don't have the disease, you'd think I did by the way my mom hovers over me. I guess I'm scared of getting it. They say it's hereditary, so what happens if one day I catch hemophilia, start bleeding, and can't stop it?

Question 2: What is your biggest accomplishment?
I'm smart. Two years ago I won my age group in The Under the Arch Chess Tournament. I almost won again last year but a girl named Haley beat me. She's the only one who can beat me at chess, and I'm a little knock kneed at the thought of going up against her this year in the ten-year-old's category. Okay, I confess, I kinda like her, so scratch out my answer to question one. I'm most afraid of Haley--which is probably why I lost the tournament.
 
Question 3: What is your biggest regret?

I regret letting Randy bug me all the time in class. He always bullies me, but I've never stopped him because I'm kinda chicken. If I tell him to leave me alone, he might punch me, make me bleed, and do it in front of Haley. So on second thought, I guess I'm most afraid of Randy Butcher.

You didn't ask me what's been bugging me, but I'm going to tell you anyway. No one has gotten to meet me because my author has not gotten my story into query shape. It needs a lot of revisions. Here's the start of my story, MRS. ZIMMERMAN'S DONUTS by Joyce Paull Lansky. If you like it, tell your agent or editor friend about her because I want to be famous. Err, maybe not. It might be scary.



Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts


            Every Friday after school, Harrison Zimmerman invited popular boys—not me, over for a stupid end-of-the-week celebration. His mom, the best chef in St. Louis County and co-founder of Zimmerman’s bakery, would fry up homemade donuts dipped in thick chocolate sauce. My mouth watered as we drove down Aberdeen Avenue and I breathed in the scent of those gooey pieces on a bed of powdered sugar.            
By the age of ten most guys had wolfed down seven-dozen pastries or more, but I’d never even tasted Mrs. Zimmerman’s donuts. I convinced myself that it was because my mom would’ve fallen into a tantrum at the thought of me swallowing anything slightly junky. She usually made a fuss over eating healthy as if my gut would explode if the tiniest bit of sugar or grease tickled my insides. But the real reason I’d never eaten the donuts—the fact that bothered me even more than Mom’s obsession over food, cleanliness, and safety—was that Harrison had never asked me to come to his stupid party. Actually, no one had ever invited me to go anywhere; but things were about to change.
  

That's what's been bugging me, but it's okay. Slater moved to town,
and he's going to help me be cool. See ya later.   ❧ Knob