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Tag Archives: writing
Today I would like to share with you a place where I enjoy going, mainly for a coffee or homemade muffin, but also just to ‘be’. What I mean by that is sometimes I feel I need to get out of the house and a walk simply doesn’t do it. Sometimes I just want to be somewhere. I don’t have to be doing anything (even though I end up doing something). I enjoy not having a plan or time restraints. So I thought I would share with you one of my favorite cafes, where I go to read, write, think, or work.
The name isn’t very creative (Bean Counter Cafe), but the atmosphere is pleasant, with a covered courtyard, indoor seating for rainy days, and outdoor seating for warm days. The coffee is good and the muffins are amazing. Even the background music is desirable, unlike some places that are too loud. I visit this cafe more than others in my neighborhood, which made me think of the reasons why.
Why does that cafe appeal to me more than others? So I made a list of the reasons why I love this cafe most and I encourage you to do the same for the place you go to the most.
Why I Love Bean Counter
- Close proximity to my house
- Homemade Muffins!
- Variation of seating
- Good lighting (necessary for writing)
So what are some reasons that you visit a place over and over? I realized while doing this list that the biggest reason for me is that I can walk there from my place. That appeals to me the most, because even if I find a cafe with better coffee, would I drive there everyday just to getaway? Probably not.
Holy crap on a cracker! You can now officially buy Pure Blood as an e-book on iTunes!!! Only $0.99! Just search ‘Pure Blood’ in the iTunes store under the ‘books’ section.
Feel free to write a review when you finish reading it!
Behold! The unveiling of my new cover!!!! Thank you, Fabian Parra and Hugo Rojas for designing this beautiful cover that depicts Pure Blood perfectly!
It is interesting how powerful slang can be. Just walking around, we hear slang words and phrases everywhere. It is quite common. However, we generally only hear it. When we read it in a newspaper or somewhere, it looks out-of-place.
When slang starts to appear in places and gets treated like a normal word, both written and spoken, then I may worry. Why is slang so powerful and influential to the spoken and written word?
But the more important question: Do we want to be known by our slang, by words that are only understood by other people within our country, or do we want to sound more professional and intelligent?
I do use slang, don’t get me wrong, but a lot of the slang I don’t use, because it just sounds… ugly. Why change something beautiful like language? Why butcher it to something that is unrecognizable? I have heard slang in my different countries and even in different languages. Here is an example:
When I first started learning Spanish, I wanted to learn because I thought it one of the most beautiful languages spoken. I still believe that. It has a magic about it that makes the tongue move like a dance. Exquisite. When I started meeting people from Spanish-speaking countries and travelling to those countries, I found that I got lost in a lot of the language. I was hearing a completely different language. That was because I had never learned the slang. But this Spanish was not beautiful to my ear. It was messy and rough, not the poetry that I dreamed of. It disappointed me greatly.
My point is this: Why do we let slang rule our language? Why does it make us so comfortable? Since when does using beautiful words together in a sentence make you sound “old-fashioned” or a “know-it-al”? Since when did we compromise our knowledge?
So, I have had this story for a while, but have resisted doing anything with it. I think I will try to finish it and just make it into a short story. I plan on putting it as a free e-book once I finish. I thought I could post it here as well. I don’t have a title yet. I am always open to suggestions about my writing and even a title. 🙂
Let me just say this; I did not plan on writing a vampire story. It just happened. I do not try to be a vampire girl/fan. Sometimes stories come to us, whether we like it or not, but my job as a writer is precisely that: to write. So I wrote this down. Let me know what you think throughout the process. -BMGVan looked over his class schedule for the tenth time. His older brother, Korbin, who laid on his bed throwing a ball into the air, looked over at him. “Would you stop that?! Why are you so damn nervous?” “Why aren’t you?” Korbin sat up and looked at his brother across the room. The two brothers were vastly different in appearance and personality. Korbin, the older and bigger of the two, would intimidate anyone with his size and strength. He put most of the football players to shame. He was tall with dark brown hair that he kept cut short. Van, who wasn’t scrawny, wasn’t nearly as large as his brother. He worked out, but next to his brother he looked small. He wasn’t as tall as Korbin, but he walked straighter. His hair was the same dark brown but longer. He often pushed his hair back throughout the day. Van had a cautious attitude, whereas Korbin was very relaxed. Van, probably the more serious of the two, was so only because he didn’t have many close friends. Korbin had his girlfriend. “Because everything’s going to be alright and, if it isn’t, we can just leave. Just relax and try to have some fun, okay?” “Easy for you to say.” Korbin shook his head as he walked to the fridge and grabbed a bag of crimson liquid. He threw it to Van. “Here. It’ll make you ease up a bit.” He tossed a straw at Van and sat back down. Van punctured the bag and took a few sips of blood. It cleared his head a little and he felt less tense. “Thanks.” “Uh-huh. Just remember we have each other’s backs. Everything’s going to be okay.” Van nodded as he drank some more. “I hope so.” Classes started bright and early the next morning. Van and Korbin had different schedules. Van was double majoring in creative writing and literature. Korbin was majoring in criminal justice with a minor in psychology. Van started up a hill to his first class. Their college was in the mountains, which they preferred and one of the reasons they chose that school. It was in a small town in the mountains and only around two thousand students attended. It was a beautiful campus, covered in old trees and rolling green hills. It was especially beautiful this time of year when the leaves changed from emerald-green to sunset orange to blood-red. Van loved when the leaves were red. He felt like he was in another world: a world he didn’t have to hide in. Van wasn’t nervous about his classes. He had studied his whole life and had become a nerd in that sense. He loved reading everything from encyclopedias to science fiction. He was nervous about the interaction with his classmates. He had always dreamt of having close friends, but knew it was impossible. Van sighed as he sat down on a bench and pulled out a book he had been reading. He started from the page that he marked and relaxed as he waited for his next class. After several minutes he sighed again and set his book down. He looked at his watch. Van went to grab his backpack when one of the shoulder straps broke, sending his books everywhere. “Shit!” He knelt to pick them up when a hand, holding one of his novels, held it out to him. He looked up into two crystal blue eyes like the sky on a cloudless day. A girl with long light brown hair stared at him with a big smile. “Walt Whitman, huh? What class is this for?” Her smile made her face glow and her skin was rosy with color. “It’s not.” She raised her eyebrows as Van took the book from her hand and gathered the rest in his arms. He stood up at the same time she did and was once again entranced by her eyes. “So you enjoy poetry?” He nodded. “Cool. Maybe sometime you can help me understand it, then.” She put out her hand. “I’m Claire.” Van awkwardly tried to shuffle his books to one hand as Claire giggled. “Here, let me help.” She took half of his books and held out her hand again. Van took it. “Van.” She smiled. “Hi, Van. Where are we taking these?” He turned and pointed down the hill. “Martin Hall.” “Ah, the jock dorm.” They started walking down the hill together. “Do you play any sports?” “No. I was just unfortunately placed in the dorm.” Claire giggled again. “You?” She shook her head. “I’m too busy, but I do enjoy the occasional tennis match when I have the time.” “Tennis, huh? My dad tried to teach me a thing or two about tennis.” “Oh, yeah?” “Yeah, like hit the ball into the court.” She giggled and Van smiled. “Well, I’ll have to see your moves sometime on the court.” “I’m not that good.” “That’s okay. Maybe we can trade lessons. I’ll teach you tennis and you can teach me poetry. How does that sound?” “Sounds good.” “So, are you an English major or you just like to overload your backpack with literature?” Van laughed. “Yeah, I’m a creative writing and literature major. Yourself?” “Biology and pre-med.” “Wow. Tough major.” She shrugged. “It’s a lot of work, but it’s what I want to do.” “What kind of doctor do you want to become?” “Pediatrician. I love kids.” Van opened the building door for her and they both walked into Martin Hall. He led her down the stairs and some hallways to his room. “What year are you?” “First year.” “Me too.” He opened his door and walked into his room. He dropped his books onto his bed and she did the same. Korbin, his arm around Nyx lying on his bed, sat up a little. Van turned around. “Uh, Claire, this is my brother, Korbin. Korbin, this is Claire. That’s Korbin’s girlfriend, Nyx.” She smiled at them. “Nice to meet you.” Korbin, his face perplexed, just nodded once. Nyx waved. Van didn’t waste any time in leading the way out of his dorm. Outside again, he stopped walking. “Thanks for helping me.” “No problem. How come I haven’t seen you before?” Van shrugged. “I guess English and science majors don’t cross paths often.” “We’ll just have to change that, then, won’t we?” She smiled as she took his hand and pulled a pen out of her pocket. She wrote a row of numbers on his pale arm. “Call me sometime.” She let go of his arm and walked away. “See ya around…Van.” Van stood there several minutes after she had left, his head buzzing. He had never felt that way around a girl before, especially a human girl. She made him laugh and smile and feel like a thousand lightning bolts went off inside him. He looked at the number on his arm and then walked back inside.