A Little Bit of Everything...

This is another repost from dkstevens327.'wordpress.com MY MAIN BLOG IS AT: dks327.WordPress.com Note: I've been working with Violent and Draco for a while now. Hopefully I'll get some time to really tell their story. -- d.k.s., 29 Feb, 2020 Pen and Paper and Faries: Journal Wed 10 Feb 2016 CHAPTER ONE: MEETING "You're Silent Violent, aren't you?" Draco moved next to the empty stool next to hers but made no move to sit on it. He was slender with light hair that was just long enough to get in his face. Violent knew his eyes were violet like hers, but they looked black in the dark club / bar. Violent reminded herself to keep her back straight, posture perfect. She glanced over her shoulder at the two tables he, his band, Ouroboros, and their group were sitting. Indicating the table with a tilt of her head, her waist length dark hair moving like water, she asked calmly, "Which one of your friends put you up to this?" From across the r...

From 19 December, 2014. I will freely admit that in this New World of everyone vomiting their personal guts up -- "Look at my kid! Here he is two seconds later, isn't he adorable? And, here, same pose, same outfit, same day. Amazing, isn't it?" -- or the, "I need you to unfriend and block M----. He's stalking me. Again." -- etc, etc, -- this whole, let's put it ALL out there and then some, people will think we're making it up anyway -- is baffling to me. Kids under ten are posted all over for child molesters (they're out there. They may sit in front of you in Sex Ed. They may help your kids onto animals at the Bronx Zoo, copping a feel. They may wear lots of buttons on their Toys R Us vest to attract more kids. Yes, I'm talking about you, Mr. N.L.). Kids with Facebook accounts that parents swear they're watching. Hell, I can't even watch my own FB account all the time! But the worst violation I have come across is Google➕...

20 Common Grammar Mistakes That (Almost) Everyone Makes by Jon Gingerich Note: A few years ago, I had the idea of starting a Writer's Group. Being disabled meant it would have to be online. Alas, nothing came of it, but there are some good pieces about writing which I think are worth reposting. I'm not sure why the entire post is bold. It wasn't bold on WordPress. It wasn't bold when I copied it to paste it here. I've tried to fix it, even going into HTML, but no luck. I hope that you can overlook to bold text. Blessed Be, D. K. Stevens dks327@yahoo.com COLUMN BY JON GINGERICH JANUARY 31, 2012 I’ve edited a monthly magazine for than six years, and it’s a job that’s come with more frustration than reward. If there’s one thing I am grateful for — and it sure isn’t the pay — it’s that my work has allowed endless time to hone my craft to Louis Skolnick levels of grammar geekery. As someone who slings red ink for a living, let me tell you: grammar is an ultra-micro compo...

  THE ROOM There is a Room. It is at the top of a three storey building, but it is not the attic. The ceiling is high, perhaps 12 feet, with sturdy pipes and beams which crisscross at about 10 feet. The windows are blackened, the walls soundproofed, though there wouldn't have been much of a view and the rooms on the second floor are unused. There are four small rooms on the first floor; these are rented by the hour. Or the half hour. Depending on what the customer is willing to pay for. The office on the first floor used to be the pantry, but Sal had cut the door in half, and made it his office. The top part of the door could be closed, and locked with a vertical lock to hold the door together. There is a small card table that Sal used for his desk and for eating his meals. His meals are brought to him by one of the ageing women who work in the rooms that rented by the hour. Or the half hour. The front door had a chain with a lock, so customers were forced to ente...

angel on pedestal wonder is the color of your skin touched lightly beneath my fingertips softly loving my wetness i am disappearing in your lust-flavored fairy tales which i believe despite my better judgment i know you your kind. and i let myself fall and convince myself i am yours and you are mine and our love smells of bees and the stickiness is all the remains when you shed your wings and walk away. Note: I wrote most of my poems in high school, but this was written for my Bunny Czar/ Tsar. Everything in this poem has a double meaning. I never fell so hard, so fast for anyone. But, as the poem says, I out him up above me and it turned out he was just a guy and I was just another girl passing through his life. There was this girl I stupidly introduced to my friends at the time. She wore a mask in front of them -- still does -- and I couldn't believe her didn't see right through her. She dislikes me for some reason. I guess because I could, ...