Soon to be 100 Posts #5

Five is the number of posts that MM has written, as opposed to my 94 published posts, two drafts, and one scheduled post.

On another note, as I want to make this post a tad longer, I will list five blogs that I think have really cool and curious names (curious as in arouses one's curiosity).

#1 Ramblings of the Bearded One

#2 she left on a monday

#3 A Thousand Clapping Hands

#4 Confessions of a Junkyard Cat

#5 The Hermitage

Just a note about these blogs...I follow quite a few blogs, but four of these blogs I ALWAYS read when something new is posted. Also, I really like all of these blogs, not just their names, though their names are pretty cool. Lastly, I found two or three of these in Blogs of Note, and they are quite popular. I'm willing to attribute quite a large part of that popularity to their names :D

Soon to be 100 Posts #7

Seven authors that I admire or that somehow, even in a small way (but a conscious (rather than unconscious/subconscious) way) influence my writing. (That has to do with me, just like I said it would.. even if I digress a bit from the original intent)

#1 Robert Pirsig (Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance*)

#2 George Orwell (1984*)

#3 Jane Austen (Pride and Prejudice*)

#4 William Golding (Lord of the Flies*)

#5 John Steinbeck (The Grapes of Wrath*)

#6 Anthony Horowitz...just to show that I do read normal books too :D (The Switch*..bought the only one I can think of at the moment, I haven't read his most recent/popular contributions)

#7...Finally, Edgar Allen Poe (The Tell-Tale heart (Short story)...his stories and poems never fail to creep me out and fascinate me, and that could be where the horror theme slips in somewhere...

* The book I admire them for/ the only book of theirs I have read

Soon to be 100 Posts #8

Hmm. A list of eight...
How about eight pictures I haven't shown you?

#1...Can you see the maniacal gleam in that bird's eye?


#2...A cross at the beach, put there as a memorial to some children who found a ball washed up and shore and began to play with it not knowing until too late that it was an unexploded mine.


#3...A flock of birds flying over the water, doubled by their reflections.

#4...The eye of a sweet horse we saw one day.

#5...I liked the way the rocks looked, the ones in the back as though they didn't belong, out of place.

#6...Two pictures that count as one...the first a honeycomb of sand that we saw while traipsing the shore...odd isn't it? The second a view down into a tidal pool/tidal streamy thing which looks like it was taken in Florida or somewhere instead of Ireland.



#7...A bird in flight in Kilarney.



#8...Lastly, but not leastly, a ram in Connemara.

Magpie Tales #2...The Perfect Match

She holds the match vertical, and waits for the flame to die out. When the last glint of light has disappeared, she throws the charred stick into the cold fireplace.
With a sharp flick of her wrist, she lights another match and draws it close to her face.
The soft yellow light makes her dark eyes gleam. She smiles, not in a friendly way, and tilts the match to its side.
The flame flickers out.
The small room is plunged into darkness again.
The soft scuttle of vermin starts, momentarily paused by the hypnotizing flame.
She wrinkles her nose. The smell of damp penetrates everything.
She leans against the crumbling wall. This isn't her house, she just crawled in for the night. Truth be told though, it isn't any better here than outside. Outside are the stars and the moon, the smell of open space, and the warmth left by the scorching sun after its departure.
But by night all manner of things descend on the quiet countryside. Creatures that fill the clear, rainless dark with whispers that seem to come from all directions and howls that stretch to the moon and back.
She lights another match.
The empty fireplace seems like an abyss that she could fall into without warning.
She hunches against the farthest wall.
The spark of another match casts her shadow, ebony black and towering, toward the small doorway.
She lets it burn down to her fingers, then tosses it to the ground.
There might have been a candle in the first room, but it is too late to go out there now. The night has cloaked the house with a gossamer veil, and she is safe only in this room.

Outside, a wolf creeps close to the house. It presses its snout against a dirt-encrusted window. A small glow is visible for second, then it disappears. The wolf waits. Soon a bright flash abrades its eyes and then the comforting glow returns.
The wolf crosses to the front door. It is battered wood, and has a simple latch on the inside. The wolf rises onto its hind legs and scratches at the door.
From the surrounding forest, a chorus of howls heralds his action. The door collapses inward and the wolf traipses confidently inside.

She fumbles for another match. With a sinking heart she realises that this is the last one. She positions her hands close to the match box, ready to strike the final match.

The wolf sniffs the rotting floorboards. His paws pick his next move before his mind registers it.

She stiffens, listening to the soft breathing of the wolf, and the click of its nails against the floor as it approaches.

The wolf continues, its head held high, no longer needing to sniff the ground to determine its path.

She freezes as the wolf peers around the door frame. She brings the match close to the box and closes her eyes.

The wolf shrinks back as a bright flash lights up the room.

She opens her eyes. The wolf is sitting just inside the room, its gaze intent on the match. She looks down at it. The flame is still large, but the matchstick isn't burning. She opens her mouth in amazement.

The wolf lies down, its head resting on its paws, eyes still captivated by the flame.

She holds her finger over the flame, and jumps back as it is burned. Carefully she places the match into the fireplace.
Instantly a fire fills it, the abyss now a welcoming blaze.

The fire lights up the room. It is not as dirty and in such ill repair as she thought it was. The wolf is no dangerous hellhound but a shaggy sheep dog.

She picks up the match box to throw it in the fire, but pauses.

The match box is full again.

She sets it back onto the mantel, in the same position as she found it earlier that afternoon. She will move on in the morning, and sometime in the future, someone else in need will find the house and the matches.

She smiles at the thought.

Soon to Be 100 Posts #9

Nine Reasons Why I am Glad I Will Reach 100 Posts

#1 It proves that I can accomplish/complete something if I put my mind to it, even if it gets tedious at times

#2 I am still attracting blog traffic.

#3 I have used the blog as a creative outlet at times, and I am glad I am writing more frequently

#4 I can look back at all my previous posts and see how far I've come, blog experience wise and just plain ol' experience wise

#5 When I Google my name there are lots of results, thanks almost entirely to this blog and various comment on other blogs

#6 Authors/novelists should have a blog, as they need to keep up with the current technology for reaching out to readers, and when I publish my first novel (hopefully in a few years or sooner) I will already have one...

#7 I have examples of my work and my personality that anyone interested in my writing or me as a writer can see.

#8 I have taken more photographs, and posted them ( most of them not half bad) than I would have had I not had the blog...sometimes taking photogrpahs specifically for a post, sometimes moulding a post around a photograph, sometimes just being able to find the right photograph to put into a post

#9 Lastly, I am glad that I reached (will reach) 100 posts because I am connecting with all sort of people all over the world. I could have given up at any time but I didn't and now look what I have achieved

Soon to be 100 Posts #10

In ten more posts (aka ten more days...hopefully), I will have reached my one hundredth post.
While I could hope for more readers/followers, I am pretty satisfied with my achievements to date.
My blog will be one year old this July, and I am glad that it has not taken me that long to get one hundred posts, even though the blog was supposed to be daily.

Ten Reasons Why I thought I Would Never Get 100 Posts...

#1 I have a short attention span, and not a lot of determination (depending)

#2 For the longest while, no one read my blog, and still hardly anyone does (never consistently)

#3 I have hardly any free time due to bad habits such as watching television, and going on the internet (Facebook, games, etc.)

#4 I thought I would run out of ideas of things to post about

#5 My posts were (are) very long...so I used up a lot of ideas in one post

#6 I posted infrequently...sometimes I went for amost a month between posts (good thing for a daily blog, eh?)

#7 I spent a lot of time reading other people's blogs and being envious of their followers/good posts instead of working on my own

#8 After a while, I got tired of the name of the blog, but couldn't change it (because of the url), so I didn't want to post

#9 I had loads of good ideas for posts, but always forgot them...even when I started making a list of them

#10 And lastly... I never thought I would get one hundred posts because I sometimes wasn't all that in to the blog, and I usually desert things that I'm not all that in to.

Pretty

I wanted to share my birthday card from MM and DD because it is so pretty :D (I got it awhile ago BTW)

I love the woman, the pink is so nice, and it has a little black ribbon on the side!


Plus, the inside has a polka-dot border!



My favourite thing about it is the woman's skirt.