The Writings of a Dyslexic

If you have read the recently posted short story Magic you might have noticed it had a tag called World Building on it as well as Firelight. Firelight is a tag that will be self-explained in the coming future so this post will be focused on the World Building one. Magic originally came about as a way to explain to myself how magic came about and why didn't the Creator do anything to those who abused magic. I never planned to post it to the general public as it was for myself and myself alone. As it is I have obviously posted it... To a handful of places actually. It was originally handwritten in NaNoWriMo 2013 with a mixture of other work (By the way, my username for there is Amaritage). With Magic being the only thing to be posted for people to read. However, when I decided to try and do the 100 Theme's Challange this year on DeviantArt through story writing I decided I would two things with it; Continue the story of the boy from Magic Build upon a world that has several ...

“Tell me, what is magic?” a boy asked his mother one day while the two worked in the kitchen. “Why Child! Magic is a gift from the Creator!” his mother answered him shocked that he did not know this already. It was pretty common knowledge especially in a household such as theirs that had magic in their blood. “Then why can people do evil things with it?” he asked her a look of sadness on his face. For it was true despite magic being a gift from the Creator people could still and did evil things with it. “Because the Creator also gave man free will to use it as they please, though it saddens him when a man abuses the gift he gave them,” she answered her son knowing full well he was just going to ask more questions from such an answer. “Then why doesn’t he stop them?” he asked the boy’s eyes wide. Surely if he had given them such a gift the Creator could stop them from misusing it as well! “He did once long ago then warned what would happen to others that followed in their path...

Masks is a five-part short story series I began in March of 2012 and finished on June 01, 2016 which is why when all five parts are posted they have the tag of Old Work on them. It was originally posted on my Livejournal with Masks, Other Side, and Cracks being written in LiveJournal while Falling and Vanquished was written long handed than typed out. Masks was first written at a time in my life when I would just write whatever popped into my head and post it up for the world to see. Thus if first parts of the series seem a bit, well, rough that would be the reason why. It would be probably another year before I realized just how important rough drafts and revisions actually were. The story behind the idea of Masks is a rather simple one. One time I was speaking with someone, cannot quite remember who, about how everyone seems to wear a mask. Much like its implied in the story, we didn't mean an actual, physical mask, but more like a mental, emotional one. They wear these masks t...

When she had arrived at home she had not expected to see her husband pacing in their living room trying to wear a hole in their hardwood floor. She knew the signs of a panic attack and clearly, he was having one. She set her things down and walked up to him taking his hands in hers mainly to stop him from twisting his wedding band around his finger. It had become a telltale sign of distress for him not long after they had gotten married. “Honey, what's wrong?” she asked him noting he was looking down. His focus was currently on her stomach where their baby was currently growing. She wasn’t showing just yet, but she had told him almost as soon as she had found out herself.  “What if I’m like him?” he asked. “You are wonderful around kids. None of your kindergarten students want to go home when the day is finished. You are not at all like him,” she told him as she smiled softly. She wouldn’t have married him if he was even remotely like his father. “He was like that! Nice outsid...

“You want to marry him?” her mother practically screeched as she pointed and an accusing finger in the direction of her now Fiance. After all theses years, she was more than used to her mother's rantings now. Her fiance, however, was not as she had managed to make sure he was never around when her mother started in about whatever had managed to upset her that particular time. It was clear to her that the entire affair was making him nervous as his face had paled considerably. While she waited for her mother to stop yelling she turned her focus to her father. She did not really care what her mother had to say about her choice in a Fiance. The only reason she had told her was out of courtesy. She wanted to know what he thought. Her father sat there with a practice blank expression on his face. It was one that he only had on his face when his wife started ranting like this. In an effect it was his own mask yet unlike his daughter it was one he could remove as he so chose. His opinio...

Slowly she worked the knots out of his lower back trying her hardest to ignore when her fingertips brushed over one of the many scars upon his back. Some she had even treated the best she could when he had shown up hurt and refused to go to the hospital. She longed to ask just where they came from, but past experiences taught her that it was no use to ask him. He would never answer her. Her fingers brushed over a couple of scars that were clustered together. "I got that one when I was twelve. My dad threw a glass at me for making too much noise while I was playing in the sprinklers in the backyard." She nearly jumped when he first had spoken. She had thought he had fallen asleep. In fact, that had been the aim of giving him the back massage in the first place since upon his arrival here it appeared to her that he hadn't slept in days. Something about the tone of his voice also worried her. Just what had happened to him in these past few days? Her fingers ran over anothe...

The first post covered how Dyslexia affects me when I read. It is kind of hard to explain and as such the post wasn't very long nor had a whole lot of detail. The reason for this is because unless I am reading out loud most of the time I don't notice myself making mistakes unless the sentence ends up not making sense to me. With writing in general it is a whole lot easier for me to point out and even describe how it affected me growing up. Remember this from the first part? ... when they found out I was Dyslexic and my mother asked what could be done to help me their answer was a simple one, "Be glad that computers are coming out with spellcheck." What they said about being glad that computers are coming out with spellcheck now would be something I would grow to absolutely loathe. Before we get into that, however, let's start with my younger years as the issues with spellcheck wouldn't really crop up until much later. When I was little there was this Hook...

He was the type of boy that everyone avoided. The one who sat in the back of the classroom with the hood of his sweater pulled up to shut out the rest of the world. The type that would avoid anything that required him dealing with another person unless he couldn't help it. The one that at some point chased away what few friends he had left with harsh words and just plain ignoring them. He had placed masks up as guards from the rest of the world. To keep anyone and everyone from having any interest in him whatsoever. At least that was what he told himself. In truth, the masks were there to hide the physical pain he suffered and the desperate cry for someone to help him that always went unanswered. To hide just how much he was helpless to save himself from the situation he now found himself in. These masks he swore never to remove for fear of what would happen if he did. She was the type he avoided more than anyone. He had seen her a few times on the campus but had never really pai...

I know something that people complain about a lot is finding themselves distracted while trying to write. Being ADD myself I often find that I am distracted by other things when it comes time for me to sit down and write. Whether it be the internet, people, pets, hunger or other miscellaneous things it gets rather annoying and sometimes may build up so much that we might even find ourselves procrastinating. Some of these are going to be obvious I will admit, but we sometimes miss the obvious. Thus I am writing this blog post in hopes that someone, someday, might find even one of these useful. Do not start writing on an empty stomach; I don't know about you guys but when I get hungry I have a bad habit of wandering off in search of food sometimes never going back to what I started. Thus I try to schedule my writing periods right after I eat or sit down and write while I'm cooking. If you are the type that gets drawn into your stories for the sake of your food do not write w...

The smiling face, the happy girl who never said anything bad about anyone, her cheerful nature that could brighten anyone's day. They were all just a mask. A mask she wore to hid what she was truly feeling. To hide the pain she had suffered because of what others had done to her. The sadness bottled close to her heart that never seemed to leave no matter how much she tried to pretend that it wasn't there. Finally, the anger she had for herself and others that she did not know how to express because she was afraid what would happen if she did. So many layers of masks she had applied to herself that even she began to wonder if she truly knew who she was. There was one person, one solitary person in her life that could peel back the layers and find the girl hidden beneath them. The problem was she didn't know if she could trust him or not with that girl. Just as she had her layer of masks he had his own and unlike him, she never seemed able to get past them. His words of comfo...

They await within the Darkness of your mind. Just for that one moment when you happen to make a small mistake. That is when they pounce in an attempt to drag you down with them, but it is not that simple. For them to get what they want you have to give in to them first. They will circle you like vultures and whisper vile things to your already weakened mind. They will tell you that you are worthless. That you will just keep repeating the same mistakes over and over again. These demons will tell you anything to bring you down. From the darkness they whisper that the small Light you can see is nothing but a lie. An illusion to force you to continue forward when really there is no reason to. All these and more they will tell you in an attempt to get you to submit to them. At first you will tell yourself that they are wrong. If given a chance you could redeem yourself from the mistakes that you have made. That you indeed have worth in this world. Or you will simply choose to ignore the...

The other day I told my mother about starting this blog. The first question she asked me was what I was going to post on it which was a very good question. My answer was simple; Short stories, poems, the rare artwork maybe (Since I like to draw the characters I write about), book reviews and writing-focused apps/programs. It was at that point that she pointed out that blogs also included a personal aspect of things that affected what they are blogging about. For example, my mother reads homesteading blogs a lot so she told how if one of the homesteading blogger's children went to the doctor and found out they had a food allergy they would write posts about how they had to shift their way of doing things because of said allergy. Going with this flow of thought she said I could write about a few medical issues I had, but I pointed out to her that none of those really affected what I wrote. However, within a few minutes, I realized that I did, in fact, have something that affected m...

It had been a long and fruitful day of trading in the city. For one man, at the end of the trading day, he found himself completely out of stock much to his surprise. It had been awhile since this had last happened to a low ranked trader such as himself who had no backing of a guild or a rich noble like most. Some of his earnings for the day he had used to buy supplies that he would need come winter since he always stayed home. The rest of it would go into a locked chest he kept under some loose boards in his house spelled to zap anyone that touched it except him in case a time came when no one wished to buy his goods. Now he was on his way home to rest then prepare for his next outing to procure more goods. Before that, however, he had to pass through an old, large, and very dense forest. Most people simply went around it or used the various means available to fly over it such as a dragon or even their own magic. Then again, most people did not have a home that was a straight shot thr...

Once upon a time, there was this personal blog... And quite frankly I hate writing about my everyday life as it is boring. Why would anyone want to read about it? I have a LiveJournal that I have for that which I have a tendency of forgetting. A lot. Which is why I have decided that instead of writing about myself on this blog (All previous posts have been marked as drafts) I am going to instead post my short stories, artwork, poems and other such things instead. Sounds interesting? At least I hope it does... They have to be better than my own life. I have a few saved up right now that I have been working on for awhile so I'm thinking for now maybe one short story a week? I hope to write more and maybe even one day I will post a longer story on here. Now, dear reader, you may be asking yourself why am I posting them on here? Especially since I have a link to my Deviantart account. The answer is quite simple, actually, you see while Deviantart is good for gaining the attention of ot...