Visit Us On InstagramVisit Us On FacebookVisit Us On PinterestVisit Us On LinkedinVisit Us On TwitterVisit Us On GooglePlusVisit Us On Youtube
To Write Something, You Have to Risk Making a Fool of Yourself ~ Anne Rice

Achieving Freedom Through Writing

Recent Posts

Free Downloads

Free Downloads

Hi Friends, Thank you for rocking with me these past three months.  As a thank you, I decided to put all my free downloads in this post.  It will be updated regularly when I have more downloads to give away.  I hope you enjoy them, share […]



I have this idea for a script.  If you’d like to see this as a completed script, I’ll let you know when it’s done.  If not, let me know what you think in the comments. CROWNING LOCATION The woods. Dia is like a black widow, […]

How Do You Organize?

How Do You Organize?

I have been unsuccessfully creating calendars to structure my daily activities for many years.  It is only now that I have come to the realization that calendars do not work for me…AT ALL.  I try to schedule my day by assigning certain duties to a time block, but as my day plays out, the majority of the assigned tasks do not get done at the specified time unless it’s a doctor’s appointment or something with my son’s school schedule.

I “schedule” my writing time for the hours when my son is at school.  Now that his summer break has begun, I have to come up with a new plan to get my work done.  I have decided to choose my old faithful, To-Do Lists.  I love to-do lists and checking off the items as I progress through my day.  The pressure of trying to get something done within a certain time is gone.  The only pressure is making sure I get the items completed.

My to-do lists are categorized by urgency and due dates.  I try to touch on everything I have on my list even if I don’t complete the task. That way, there is less for me to make up for the next day.  I start by writing a general list of everything I have to get done for the day, week, and month.  Then, I separate the tasks by their due date.  I make it a priority to work on completing the task before it’s due date because if I’m running behind, I will have a buffer.

In my mind, my day seems freer as I tackle my tasks.  I write until my pen stops moving, I craft until the inspiration is gone, I play with my son until he gets tired of me, and I watch movies or read for structural analysis and entertainment.  I don’t know why I was being stubborn about setting myself up for failure with schedules when to-do lists work best for me.

What works best for you?  Answer in the comments.


Dream Stories

Dream Stories

My dreams are so vivid and filled with story masterpieces, at least once a week.  I can’t wait to go to sleep sometimes because the stories play like movies, and it’s the only place my acting is any good.  A dream is where I got […]

Yesterday to Tomorrow

Yesterday to Tomorrow

Recently, as in 4 days ago, my family suffered a great loss.  My uncle passed away due to a heart attack, and his death was heartbreaking and unexpected.  To get through this trying time, I have no choice but to find the brighter side of […]



I couldn’t let two weeks pass without writing a blog and let you know what I’ve been working on.

First off, I am writing a novella and a novel that add to my current Caribbean Folklore series, and it has been keeping me super busy.  The novella is currently sitting at 15,000+ words and will be wrapped up in the next 5,000 words.  The novel is coming along good as well.

Second, I am working on 12 workshops with accompanying e-books and journals that will be for a 30-day period each.  I’m very excited to do the workshops because my goal is to create a writers’ retreat based on some of the content covered in the workshops.

Please forgive me for my absence these last few days.  I will do better in the future.

Happy Writing Everyone!

Follow Me on Instagram!

Follow Me on Instagram!

Welcome to Burlesque

Welcome to Burlesque

I am currently working on a set of four intertwining stories in something I am  calling the Love Vignettes.  This is the introduction to the first vignettes.  It is part of a screenplay and the setup to Act I.  (Click on link below). Welcome to […]

Write With Me 1

Write With Me 1

(Time for a) REVOLUTION


Main Characters

Powers Fly, prophecy, seer, forcefield Elemental manipulation Fly, telekinesis


Name Zola Camille Kellen

Fire manipulation, empath




Protagonist Taj Quiet, strong, & supportive. Introvert. Likes to stick to the background.
Reflection Sabina Brilliant mind, goofy, selfish, & calculating.
Helper Aisha The glue between the friends & self-professed leader.  Extrovert.
Mentor Zola The leading general of the area. Not the boss though.
Antagonist Camille Jealous, petty, spiteful, and dangerous for a human. Never liked Taj.
Love Interest Kellan Camille’s crush. Dangerous to Taj because she can lose everything to save him.



            (I want to write this story in the first person.  It is usually a no-no, but I want to try something new.  I want to get lost in my protagonist’s role.)

In a civil war, three friends chose the side of their people instead of the bullying humans who tormented every day of their childhood.  Thinking they were too young to do more than that, they planned to stay in the background and not get in the way of the fighting.  They quickly get dragged into the heart of the fight where their strength, loyalty, and friendship gets tested.



Civil unrest has been growing for months.  Today, the skies lit up with orange clouds of fire.  I just stood there with Aisha, tightly locking arms.  It seems the whole student body of Calypso High School was there on the field with us.  Everyone’s head raised to the sky.  Horns started blaring, and kids started to panic and run.  I had two umbrellas with me and handed one to Aisha.

“What’s this for?” asked Aisha.

“You’ll need it, trust me,” I said and walked toward the five-story parking garage.

Camille, the bane of my existence, came up to us with her minions, Reagan and Julie.

“You didn’t bring one for me too?  That wasn’t very nice of you.  Give me yours,” said Camille while she yawned and examined her manicure.

“Not today, Camille.  You should get inside,” I said.

“Come on Taj, let’s go,” said Aisha, grabbing my arm.  “Sabina is waiting for us.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” hissed Camille.  She extended her free hand to Reagan who placed a large rock in it.

Aisha’s hand heated up, and she let go of my arm.  A small red ball of fire was beginning to grow.  I grabbed her wrist and shook my head signaling no.  I pulled Aisha closer to me with our umbrellas colliding.  Camille wound her arm back to throw.  I put up a force-field to shield us, but when Camille let go of the rock, a boy from our class, Kellan jumped in front of us and took a hard blow to the forehead.  Blood started pouring down his face.  Camille and her minions rushed to Kellan’s aide.  I watched as they helped him to his feet.

“Snap out of it.  He’ll be alright.  We don’t have time for this.  Take us to the top,” said Aisha.

The sky started to rain balls of fire.  The humans ran to the high school and us special kids made our way to the parking garage.  I took the short cut and flew on top of the roof with Aisha.  Sabina paced back and forth on the rooftop.

“What took you guys so long?” asked Sabina.  Not waiting for an answer, “Umbrellas, really?”

“Hey, I didn’t bring them,” said Aisha, throwing her hands up.

“You didn’t refuse it either,” said Sabina. “I’m shocked at you Ms. Firestarter. And you too, Ms. Force-field for days.”

Sabina shook her head and laughed. She led us to the far edge of the rooftop and pointed.  There were fires and fighting. Downtown was a war zone.

“It’s not safe here anymore ladies.  Let’s fly,” said Sabina before taking us airborne.

We passed a missile headed for the garage as we flew away. I couldn’t watch all those kids die.  I projected the largest force-field I ever have over the garage so the explosion wouldn’t kill my kin.  A lot of my energy got drained.

Sabina landed us in the heart of downtown and then she ran off.  Aisha and I went to a diner to see what edibles remained through the destruction.  We sat at the counter and ate two plastic wrapped danishes each with a bottle of apple juice picked up from the rubble.

The diner was our quiet space in the midst of all the chaos.  The television was partially detached from its wall-mount, but it worked.  When I turned it on, there was a special news bulletin talking about a civil war that was not only in our town but across the globe.

“Oh great,” said Aisha sarcastically.

“I’m not ready for this,” I said moaning.

“We don’t have that luxury anymore,” said Aisha.

The news reporter told the humans to take up arms, and if they don’t have any weapons, they should lock themselves in their homes and make some weapons.  The reporter actually said, “Kill any mutant mongrels you see, even if they are your family.” Self-preservation was the edict.  Just then, a woman named Zola cut across the airwaves.

“I am interrupting your broadcast and the suicide mission it was sending you on.  We are not regular humans, and your weapons will not work on us.  If you are ready to die because you think a world with people like me is so bad, you are welcome to do so.  After all we have done for humanity, after everything we have given, you feel like we owe you something and we are subservient to you.  We do not, and we are not.  Now is the time we re-introduce you to who we really are and what we can do.  No longer will we be your stepping stools and door mats.  You’ve taken advantage for way too long.  We are the creators and the innovators. We hold the power. Our strength has been taken as a weakness for far too long.  Now is our time to reign once again. This is a fight you will not win, but you are always welcome to try,” said Zola before a gray static filled the screen.

“Well that was intense,” I said.

“She’s right though,” said Aisha. “I’m tired of always having to be the bigger person because I have the power to end those conceited, self-absorbed, narcissistic, assholes we had the misfortune of growing up with.”

“I’m not a fan of theirs either,” I said, and it’s true, especially in Camille’s case. “But what’s the answer? Separation? Putting them in ghettos?”

“Isn’t that what they’ve done to us?  I thought you were the seer? You tell me the answer,” said Aisha.

“I don’t have one yet,” I said, disheartened.

“Come on. Let’s go find Sabina,” said Aisha.

Outside the quiet calm of the disheveled diner was a full-blown war zone.  There were blocked off areas, injured people, dead bodies, and magical beings walking around, everywhere.  We went back to the spot Sabina left us and headed in the direction she ran off too.  We didn’t have to look too hard for her because Sabina charged toward others from behind a scaffolding and tarp.

“What is with you two today?” asked Sabina.

“Taj was a little weak from putting that force-field over the garage to save the other kids.  We had to get something to build her back up,” said Aisha.

“That’s awesome what you did, by the way. Those kids have been looking for you.  I gathered them over here.  Come on,” said Sabina, leading us to the hidden spot she came out of.

Standing behind us within earshot was Zola and her assistant, Maxine.  They heard our whole conversation, and Zola became intrigued.  She sent Maxine, a shape shifter, to spy on us.  Maxine changed into a lizard and speedily ran after us.

“Oh, the powers of the youth,” said Zola to herself.



  • What is the name of the town?
  • Should the characters have last names? If so, what are they?
  • What is the group type of Taj’s people? (Magical beings, mutants, or something else?)
  • What is the compromise between the humans and Taj’s people? 



Taj runs off to save Kellan from Camille.  It was a distraction to get Taj away from Zola.  Zola’s army is overrun, and she is killed.  Things look bleak.  Taj must now come out of the shadows and lead her battalion of students to save her people from Camille and her father, the evil, racist general that led the raid on Zola.  After Taj kills Camille’s father in front of her, Camille runs off vowing her vengeance.  Taj looks forward toward rebuilding her town with the humans that aided them.

Who is Your Hero?

Who is Your Hero?

So you have a character you want to base your story around.  That character is your hero, your protagonist. To help you get in tune with your hero, think about their backstory. Identify their motivation. How will your hero be challenged in the story? How […]

My Stories

Pirates of the Caribbean Fan Fiction Short

I originally submitted this story recently for an internship I didn’t receive so I thought I would share it with you.  I hope you enjoy it.


Pirates of the Caribbean: The Skeleton’s Cradle


A pirate stands on a table in a large crowded tavern singing, “A Pirate You Shall Be.”  Pirates around the room chime in as he sings.  There is laughter, debauchery, and serving wenches all around.  Some of the wenches climb on the tables and dance to the song.  Captain Jack Sparrow and his mates sit in a back corner and plan their next voyage.  A dark-haired wench walks in the tavern holding a bundle.  She rushes to the back and throws herself into Jack.  He doesn’t recognize her at first and even calls her multiple wrong names. She stomps in frustration and tells him her name is Rebecca.

Jack offers Rebecca a drink, but his rum bottle is empty.  He hears a baby cry and slowly backs away from her.  He points at her and her bundle awkwardly.  Jack turns to Mr. Gibb and asks him about the funny sound.  Mr. Gibb shrugs.  Rebecca tells Jack that it’s a baby, his baby.  Jack backs up and stumbles into an empty barrel.

A few men enter the tavern and head straight to Rebecca.  Her brother, Thomas, scolds her for leaving the house to be with pirates.  He sizes up Jack and punches him in the face.  Jack’s crew stands.  Jack, Thomas, and their men all draw knives and swords.  The men begin fighting and start a ripple of fights with the rest of the patrons in the tavern.  The singing pirate continues to sing as he fights.  Jack and Thomas dance across the room with their swords climbing over tables and other pirates.  Rebecca chases after them with the baby.

Jack struts across the bar as he dodges bottles and bodies.  He tries to duck Thomas, but Thomas is a very skilled swordsman.  Their swords clash up and down the tavern’s stairs.  Jack runs across the tabletops, kicking the bowls and mugs in his way.  Thomas gives chase and corners him between a wall of box crates and a large round pillar.  Jack acquiesces.  Thomas hits him with the hilt of his sword and knocks him into the crates.  Rebecca screams at her brother to leave Jack alone, and the baby wails.  Thomas wrestles the baby from Rebecca’s arms and rests him on the nearest table.  He then snatches her away and runs to exit the tavern.

“I’m sorry, Jack. Take care of our baby,” yells Rebecca as she disappears.

Thomas’ men follow them out, and Jack and his crew circle the wailing bundle on the table.  Jack pulls back the wrappings to expose the baby.  He picks up the miniature pirate dressed just like him with extended arms.  The baby smiles.  A map falls off the baby’s bottom.  It reads “Skeleton’s Cradle,” and “X” marks the spot.