It’s All in the Mind – How Does Your Mind Work?

What is the first thought that comes up while reading this little piece of flash fiction?

All That's Written ...

Ron likes to play games, games that I thoroughly enjoy. My lips quirk at the memory of the other night. He came up behind me, laid his hands on my waist and whispered, “Close your eyes and come with me.”

Of course I walked to where he led me. Making sure not to let me bump into any furniture, he guided me through the room, by the time we’d crossed the suite I had no idea where I was.

“Don’t peek,” he said. He trailed one hand up, along my side lightly touching my breast, the heavy weight of it then rested on my shoulder, while his other whirled me around facing him. He breathed against my lips, “I have something for you.”

Willingly, I lowered until I sat.

“Now you may look.” His voice a husky, low sound.

As I opened my eyes, my lips parted at the sight…

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Guest Blogger Day

I watch you not from above, but right behind you, giving you space and freedom, roots and wings.

 When you need me, I walk beside you to hold your hand, to comfort you without you even knowing I am there.

 To say he is beautiful would be an understatement. 

He stands alone, standing on the edge of the sand, the waves soothing his tired, aching feet. 

His smooth, delicate features are turned toward the sun, a hint of a smile crosses his full, petal soft lips.

He is not aware I am standing behind him, watching.

Keeping him safe, without him even knowing it.

Fresh warm summer breezes tousle his thick, flaxen hair making it fall in his eyes, blocking his vision.

Yet, he does not make any attempt to push his hair away, choosing to keep staring out into the great, wide horizon and simply daydream.

I am lost in my own day dream, just standing here watching him, falling more and more in love.

Then a sweet, angelic voice fills my ears.

“Please come stand next to me.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper.

I move, and stand next to him.

He turns slowly, and smiles, his big, round, indigo eyes hold mine.

He is peering into my soul, seeing all the love I have for him, all the hopes, dreams and my fears.

I suddenly feel inferior next to this gorgeous, flawless creature and become afraid I will not be able to keep him safe.

Give him enough love, all that he needs.

But then, he reaches out, touches my hand, enfolding it in his own, pressing it to his heart.

He smiles at me once more, returning his gaze to the endless horizon.

Suddenly, with that one simple touch, all doubt, all fears melt away from my soul.

All I am left with is my love for him.

Overwhelming, all encompassing, life changing, unconditional love.

His warmth blankets me with peace.

This beautiful boy.

My son.

By Tina Traverse

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Guest Blogger Day

Survival of the Fittest

by Simon Okill

The heat sapped every last ounce of my strength as I staggered across the void–the endless waterless void. I shook the canteen to make sure my life was still in my hands. The alien sun bore down on my head now protected by torn clothing–their clothing. Well, they no longer required anything. That is as it should be–survival of the fittest. Best not dwell on such matters. Think positive. It was their fault–the commander and his golden boy the engineer. They should’ve seen it coming. But they blamed me–the flight officer. Why me? I can’t control an unstable wormhole more than the next guy. I kept telling them it was unstable at Earth’s end–we could end up anywhere in the universe and we did. Now they’re both dead. Dead so I may live. That is as it should be–survival of the fittest.

The commander was the first to succumb to the elements. He slipped and cracked his skull. He bled to death right in front of us. Why was the engineer so terrified? Was it the alien environment or did he know he was going to die? Or was it the commander’s death unravelled his mind. Whatever it was he certainly went mad–ran right off the edge of that crater. It must’ve been at least a mile deep. Don’t dwell on such matters, you damned fool. Keep going. Just get to those mountains. There must be water there or something similar in this alien world.

The pale blue sky was streaked with thin wisps of clouds trailing to the horizon, but no water in them. I shook the canteen to make sure my life was in my hands. I took a sip, just enough to wet my cracked lips. That’s when I heard them. The aliens! I ran for cover, but there was no cover. I ran in that life-sucking heat to the top of a ridge and saw them. Them! I collapsed and cried dry tears. It was over.

The search and rescue team picked me up. I was on Earth all along in a place called Death Valley. They found the bodies of the commander and the engineer. They said I murdered them for their water. That is as it should be–survival of the fittest.


AuthorsdB, Lists and How To Rise

Right, you, as a fellow indie author might think, “Not another social media site to keep up!” But I can assure you it is no trouble at all. Get yourself listed and just update your details when necessary. There’s no chatroom, blog post, twitterings or whatever to be done. Unless of course you want to rise in the ranks and be noticed. 🙂 For that you have to share. And sharing means, use twitter, Facebook, Google+, LinkedIn and whatnot to get your profile seen and liked. But the site itself requires nothing more than a listing and keeping your details up-to-date.

I’m listed on AuthorsdB, and with me lots of other authors. Emphasis on listed. To us indies lists are important and the lists on AuthorsdB are especially dear to me. 🙂

Why? I like to think it’s because I’m a writer of good books, but I am momentarily listed as #32 on their favourite authors list. With every like others award me with on their site I am rising in the ranks of indies until finally I can call myself number One.

And there you have the reason unveiled why lists like these are important to us indies. Who wouldn’t want to be able to say they are high on the list when advertising their books. Let’s be honest, when you have to choose between two books. One from an author who’s absolutely unknown and on no list at all, and the second from an author, maybe also not known worldwide but verifiable high on an author ranking list, which one would you pick?

For that reason alone, and the fact that AuthorsdB offers this service for free to all indie authors I think all indies should at least be listed on this site. That way future readers have a reasonable complete list of authors to pick and choose from when buying a new book, or looking for that one author they’ve heard of but can’t recall their name.

So, come on and take a look on AuthorsdB. Start on my page.

And when you’ve liked me, why not cast your vote on my covers? At the moment the 2013 Cover Contest is up and running. Voting is done by clicking the green arrow next to ‘image rating’ and awarding the stars you think the cover deserves.

Like any indie author, I too would be very happy and grateful to see my followers like me and what I’m up to.

Blending in

“Blending in,” Lucy wants to say to all who care, “is much like being bland, a fine quality.”

But she hesitates, for is it not what all humans secretly crave? To blend in, to belong, to be one of many. For is it not frightening to stand out in a crowd? To be the one humans look up to? Seek guidance from? Who could live up to such expectations, to wake up and know other humans want to have a part of what makes that particular human special. Instead most just want to blend in. Be bland, undetected, safe in their anonymous corner of the world. But does the world not force them out of hiding? Are humans not fighting among each other for the right to be the sun around which humanity revolves? Does not a father wants his son to look up to him and say, “Daddy, you are the best.” Does the mother not want her son to say, “Mommy, you are the sweetest.” And yet, those humans wish to hide in their safe corners to observe and feel themselves better than the ones who strive to shine. Is being bland not a quality to strive for? The bland father who loves his son for the unconditional love he gives and gets, or the bland mother who gladly sacrifices her last meal to feed her child.

Only the bland will not be left alone. We must participate, not stand aside.

Jung once said, “Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.”

But the ones who wish to be bland look with envious eyes to the truly bland and do not regard themselves the way they should. For just being the best you can be is the most admirable quality obtain.